


Things He Said To Me

by PrincessMuk



Series: Things They Said To Me [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: And a lot of bad things happen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutting, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Heavy Angst, I swear I don't hate anyone, I'm Sorry, IT'S VERY SAD, M/M, No Smut, Platonic Romance, Pretty sad, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Triggering Subjects, and then shit happens, boyf riends - Freeform, but this will be much sadder if you don't, heated stuff sometimes, meremy, pretty angsty, reference to what was basically a rape attempt, suicide mentioned, things he said to me from Michael's perspective, you don't have to read things it said to me first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMuk/pseuds/PrincessMuk
Summary: After a night where Michael realizes just how bad the SQUIP-cident was for Jeremy, things rapidly change, and nobody is safe from the chaos. But why is this happening? And since when did Jeremy start acting like a jerk?(Rating has gone up!) Rated M for language, innuendos, possibly triggering subjects, depression, mentions of implied cutting/suicide attempts, and a rape attempt (that does not actually happen! But it's still triggering.) This is a really dark story.You do not have to read Things It Said To Me first, but it will be much sadder if you read this first. However, it doesn't matter which one is read first once both are completed, so I'll leave the choice open to y'all!





	1. Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> You guys seemed to like the idea of me rewriting Things It Said To Me from Michael's perspective, so here we are! After rereading Things It Said To Me, I realized it was super rushed in the middle, so I'm hoping to do better with pacing here. This is basically the same as Things It Said To Me, but with a lot more eventual angst (*coughs* Michael doesn't know anything *coughs*) and Michael's feelings thrown in, as well as some scenes y'all never got to see! I hope you enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy comes to Michael's place for comfort. Michael has some realizations.

It was 3am on a Friday night when Michael's world was thrown into a dumpster fire.

He'd fallen asleep playing World of Warcraft, leaving a large red mark on his cheek from the book his head had fallen onto. His glasses had been taken off soon before he'd passed out, though they'd been carelessly thrown onto one of his bean bags. Probably not the most responsible way to take them off, but he'd been a literal zombie, and he didn't really care.

A sudden buzz caused Michael to abruptly awaken, letting out a confused yelp and blinking as he noticed Bob Marley beckoning him to answer his cell phone. Michael huffed in confusion, wondering why anyone would call him at this ungodly hour, and reached for his phone. He couldn't read who was calling since he was pretty much blind without his glasses, so it was to his surprise when he heard panicked breathing on the other end.

"Hello?" Michael asked groggily, voice scratchy and dry. He was starting to actually wake up now, though he was still very tired and confused.

"M-Michael, hey, it's Jeremy!" Michael blinked, suddenly more alert. Was Jeremy okay? Why was he breathing so quick? Was he having a panic attack? "Do you think I could come over?"

"Uh," Michael blinked, still waking up, "yeah, sure . . . " he answered, trying to sound calm as to not frighten Jeremy. "You okay, buddy?"

"Uh, kinda . . . not really . . . " Michael could hear Jeremy sigh from the other end. "I just . . . don't want to be alone."

Michael frowned, racking his mind for a reason Jeremy would be so upset. He probably had a nightmare . . . but Michael thought Jeremy sounded too panicked for this to be just a random occurrence. It seemed like something heavy. Of course, Michael would wait until Jeremy was ready to tell him what was wrong, and then he'd comfort the heck out of him because that was his obligation as the guy's best friend. Well, not an obligation, per say . . . Michael would do anything for Jeremy in a heartbeat, especially these sorts of things.

Probably why he was so okay with Jeremy dating Christine.

But that wasn't what he needed to be thinking about right now. He had to make sure Jeremy was okay.

"Um, yeah, okay, I understand," Michael said, getting up from his seat and grabbing his glasses from the bean bag. "I'll set up a mattress for y--"

"Actually, can I  . . . can I sleep with you?" Michael was interrupted, and he could hear Jeremy walking around. 

Michael blinked as he walked to his bedroom door, hand hovering over the knob as he took a moment to process, then nodded. "Y-yeah, sure," he said as calmly as possible. His heart was racing at the very thought, though it wasn't like this was an abnormal occurrence. They slept in the same bed all the time! Just . . . Michael always had feelings attached. 

But nevermind that, it wasn't the time for useless pining. This was about helping Jeremy. "You wanna talk about it?" Michael asked, hoping Jeremy would trust him enough to be able to talk out his feelings. Not only would it help Michael understand how to better help him, but it would also help Jeremy a  _ton_ to be able to get whatever was worrying him off his chest. That was how Jeremy worked, Michael knew that.

"Not right now," Jeremy replied, the sound of creaky stairs barely making it through the phone. "Maybe when I get there."

"Okay," Michael nodded. That was a start. "Wait," he stopped in his tracks, now in the middle of the kitchen. "How are you getting here?"

"Um . . . walking?" was Jeremy's reply. Michael figured he hadn't really thought this through, which was understandable, but there was no way in hell Michael was letting Jeremy walk to his house in the state he was, especially not in the middle of December.

"No, no, you aren't walking a mile alone in the middle of the night. I'll come to pick you up." Michael said firmly, making his way to the front door.

Michael heard Jeremy sigh, "okay . . . I'll be sitting in front of my door."

"Fine." Michael grabbed his keys off the hook, opening the door. "But have a blanket or something, I don't want you to get hypothermia waiting for me," he instructed, unlocking his car as he walked out to it.

"It's like forty degrees . . . " Jeremy mumbled from his side of the phone as Michael got into his car.

"Actually, it's twenty," Michael corrected as he looked to the temperature in his car. "And you can never be too careful," Michael said, closing his car door and turning the keys to start it. He ended the call, setting his phone in the cup holder before he backed out of his driveway, heading towards Jeremy's house.

* * *

It was only a few minutes before he pulled into Jeremy's driveway, headlights shining on Jeremy like a spotlight. He was shivering under his blanket, though Michael couldn't tell if it was from the cold or his anxiety. The lights dimmed as Michael parked, opening his door and walking over to Jeremy with a concerned expression. The male's condition was worse than Michael had thought, which meant he'd really have to up his game to comfort him.

"Jeremy, what's going on?" Michael asked, take note of his best friend's pale face as he helped him up. His skin was cold.

Jeremy looked at the ground, holding the blanket around himself closely. "Just . . . just a nightmare." Michael didn't say anything in response, he just gave a small nod and lead Jeremy to the car. Jeremy stayed close to Michael until they had to part ways to get into the PT Cruiser. Jeremy sat down, seatbelt forgotten as Michael did the same. "I just . . . I don't think I can be alone," his voice piped up again, and Michael bit his lip.

"It's okay, buddy." Michael said, his tone soft as he put the car into drive. He gave another concerned look to Jeremy, reaching over to turn on his seat heater before backing into the empty road. He kept his eyes on the road as they drove, taking a few quick glances to the male next to him, who was looking out the window with glossy eyes. Michael could see the reflection of Jeremy in the window, which somehow made the entire thing even sadder, before he looked back to the road.

This boy needed some snuggles and blankets  _fast._

They pulled into Michael's driveway, Michael taking the key out quickly. He got out of the car, going to Jeremy's side to help him out. Jeremy once again kept close to the dark-haired teen, blanket dragging along the concrete. Michael opened the front door, the two of them rushing into his room. Michael brushed some homework and wrappers off the bed, pulling back the blanket for Jeremy to get in. Jeremy got in the twin bed, and Michael got in next to him. It was a tight space, and they had to sort of spoon to fit, but neither boy minded. (Okay, Michael didn't  _mind_ , but he was definitely a little uneasy since he was currently spooning his crush.)

* * *

After a few minutes of silent snuggling, Jeremy seemed to calm down. His breathing quieted and the shaking stopping. Just as Michael was wondering if he'd fallen asleep, he heard Jeremy's small voice whisper, "Michael, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Michael blinked a few times, lifting his head up a bit. "For what?" He couldn't see Jeremy's face since he was looking at the wall, but he knew something was definitely up. What did Jeremy have to be sorry for, anyway? Coming over? If that was the case, then Michael needed to explain to his friend right away that this was completely normal. He'd do anything for Jeremy, even if it  _was_ in the middle of the night.

"For making you do all this . . . I would have gone to Christine or something but I didn't think we were close enough yet, and--" Jeremy rambled, looking down at the mattress.

"It's nothing, Jeremy." Michael shook his head, rubbing the other's arm lightly with his thumb. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked for the second time that night, wondering if something had happened that he wasn't aware of.

Jeremy nodded. He seemed to almost melt at Michael's touch, which made his heart flutter a bit. "I just . . . " Jeremy sighed. "I've been having these nightmares ever since the SQUIP incident."

Oh.  _That_ made sense. Michael felt dumb for not even considering that the SQUIP could be the cause of all this . . . it might have been defeated with the power of Mountain Dew Red, but its effects were still present in everyone's lives. Most of the others seemed okay, but Michael had definitely noticed Jeremy and Rich being a little shaken up afterward. Hell, even Jenna Rolan was absent from Twitter for a few days after the incident! It seemed so obvious that this was the root of Jeremy's problems, now that Michael thought about it. He nodded, prodding Jeremy to go on.

"Just . . . all the things that happened, and everything it said . . . " Jeremy shook his head, snuggling into the other more. "It's like it's still happening. Like it's still there."

"Oh, Jeremy . . . " Michael frowned, holding him closer. He had to admit that it felt amazing to be able to comfort Jeremy, though he was more concerned with the fact that Jeremy had been struggling with this all alone. "Why didn't you say anything? It's been like a month."

"I thought they would go away . . . but it's just gotten worse." Jeremy admitted, expression soon crumbling as tears rolled down his face. He covered his face out of embarrassment, and Michael swore his heart broke at the sight. Jeremy shouldn't have to feel like this, especially not alone. Michael cursed himself for not noticing sooner.

Michael hugged Jeremy tightly, "Jeremy, it's okay." He bit his lip, then continued, "but you should really talk to someone about this . . . " He knew that if he hadn't noticed, there might be other things he hadn't noticed, and he was afraid he might not be aware of most of Jeremy's troubles. If he were to have someone professional to talk to, that could help a lot.

"What am I supposed to say, Michael?" Jeremy cried, "that an illegal supercomputer from Japan told me I was worthless? Told me everything I already knew was true?"

Michael gasped, appalled by the very idea that Jeremy felt so little of himself. "Jeremy . . . that's not true at all."

"It  _is_ , Michael. I . . . I  _suck_." Jeremy's voice cracked. "I fell for everything it said . . . I hurt you, and I'm . . . I'm a loser."

Michael sat up then, and Jeremy tensed, turning over to look at his best friend. Michael could feel his cheeks burning with anger at the SQUIP for doing this to Jeremy, as well as embarrassment from sharing a bed, as his brows lowered. Jeremy slowly sat himself up as well, looking almost scared, and the blanket slid off his back. Michael put his hands on Jeremy's bare shoulders, and Jeremy gasped, his eyes going to Michael's hands. He looked back at Michael, who was staring at him all the while with a serious expression.

"Jeremy." Michael started, determined to make Jeremy understand how amazing he was. "You are  _not_  a loser. You're . . . you're the coolest guy I know. You're smart, you're funny, you're there for me . . . does that sound like a loser to you?"

Michael maintained constant eye contact, though Jeremy's eyes darted down once or twice. Still, the two seemed almost stuck in a trance, like a staring contest . . . Michael kept staring as Jeremy gave his answer, "but . . . but look at everything I did. I hurt everyone."

Michael sighed, breaking eye contact for just a second. He looked back to Jeremy, "listen, everybody makes mistakes." Images of his panic attack in Jake's bathroom dared to sneak into Michael's memory, but he ignored them. "But you saved everyone! You fixed it."

"But . . . " Jeremy didn't seem to know what else to say. Michael considered that a victory.

After a moment, though, Michael took that victory back.

Ever so faintly, Jeremy was whispering. Michael couldn't make it out at first, but once he did, his eyes widened in shock and empathy.

"You're ugly," Jeremy whispered to himself. "Pitiful. Nerd. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser," tears escaped once again, and he fell into Michael, breath hitching as he cried. Michael gasped at the sudden touch, but he wrapped his arms around his friend once again, rubbing his back gently.

Jeremy cried, shaking a bit and grabbing at the fabric of Michael's sweatshirt as he stained it with tears. Michael didn't mind at all as he continued rubbing Jeremy's back, holding him tighter and whispering "it's okay" and "just let it out" like a mantra.

"Everything about me is just terrible . . . " Jeremy whispered, face buried in Michael's chest. "Everything about me makes me want to die . . . " Jeremy's voice cracked again, more tears staining the soft red fabric covering Michael.

Michael pulled Jeremy away from him, staring intently at his wet, puffy face. His hair was sticking to his forehead, a mixture of snot and salty tears covering everywhere below his eyes. Michael's heart pounded as he spoke. "Jeremy, _never_  say that about yourself. You are so amazing. Everyone  _loves you_."

Michael could understand feeling worthless. He really could . . . but it didn't stop him from being so upset that Jeremy felt that way, too. Jeremy didn't deserve to feel that way. He deserved all the good things in the world, and he deserved to know how much everyone cared. Yeah, he'd made mistakes, but Michael would never hold those against him. Jeremy was a complex guy, not a douche, and he was truly amazing.

"Michael, how can you say that?" Jeremy sniffed, "we both know it's not true."

" _Jeremy_." Michael's tone was sharp and commanding. "Stop it. You . . . you're the most amazing person I've ever known, Jeremy. I'd never be able to get through high school without you. Heck, I'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't for you," Michael found himself admitting, though it wasn't the time for his own problems. "The point is, nobody blames you for what happened, Jeremy. It wasn't your fault. The things the SQUIP told you weren't true. It was just trying to get you to a point where you believed your only option was to do what it wanted."

Jeremy slowly nodded, staring into Michael's eyes. He was silent, and Michael wondered if he was going to persist with the self-hate again. He hoped not . . . Michael really wanted Jeremy to understand how great he was.

"Michael, I'm sorry." Jeremy finally said, tears gone at this point. "I shouldn't have kept this all to myself. And I shouldn't have done all those things to you before."

  
"It's okay, Jeremy." Michael gave a soft smile, trying not to think about 'all those things' Jeremy had mentioned. He'd forgiven Jeremy for those actions . . . no use dwelling on them. "You already apologized about a million times . . . and I probably would have done the same thing. Doesn't mean it's the right thing, though."

Jeremy let out a heavy sigh, escaping Michael's grasp as he fell back onto the bed. "What did I ever do to deserve a best friend like you, Michael?"

"You were yourself," Michael decided, laying down himself, "that's all you had to do."

As cheesy as that sounded, it was true. Michael loved Jeremy for who he was . . . he always had. He would always want to be Jeremy's best friend, and Jeremy didn't have to do anything special to 'deserve it'.

Jeremy stared up at the ceiling, his small smile letting Michael know that everything was finally okay. "You're the best, Michael."

"You too," Michael replied, though he wondered if Jeremy knew just how much he meant it.

With that, Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy once again, before both boys fell sound asleep.


	2. Distant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy still seems a bit off, but that's understandable. Still, Michael is worried . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad that you guys seem to like this so far! Thank you for your continuous support!

Michael woke up to Jeremy nuzzling his chest.

. . . let's say that again.

Michael, who knew he was probably the gayest guy in his school, woke up to Jeremy, his best friend  _and crush_ . . .  _nuzzling . . . his . . . chest._

So, it's understandable that Michael's heart was fluttering, and he was all too aware of how his leg was holding Jeremy close to him, and how his arm was just barely holding Jeremy close, and how Jeremy's face was so close he could hear his steady breathing, and how the rise and fall of Jeremy's chest felt so perfect next to him, and . . . that this was pretty gay.

Which meant it was amazing.

Michael made a soft noise, not really wanting to open his eyes, though he knew he'd have to eventually. But for now, he was content to just shift a bit so he could wrap his arms around Jeremy and pull him as close as he could because 1. it felt great to have pressure on his chest and 2. Jeremy was  _his crush_ who was currently  _snuggling him_ and he wanted to take advantage of this moment for as long as he could. Which . . . might be a little selfish, but . . .

Oh wait.

Michael suddenly remembered why Jeremy was in his room.

Ah shit.

"Michael?" Jeremy said softly.

Okay Michael, just be calm like last night. Help him feel safe.

"Mm?" was Michael's tired response.

"Thank you . . . for last night." Jeremy mumbled into Michael's chest, so quiet Michael could just barely hear it.

Right. That. Ah.

"You're welcome . . . " Michael replied. "That's what best friends are for," he grinned.

"No, really, you're . . . awesome." Jeremy breathed, gripping the fabric of Michael's sweatshirt. Which, uh . . . also made Michael's heart flutter a bit. (Okay, a lot.)

"You too, Jer," Michael ran a hand through Jeremy's hair absentmindedly. "You okay now?"

After a moment, Jeremy said, "yes."

Michael wasn't sure if he believed him . . . but he suspected Jeremy wanted to pretend things were normal for the moment. He'd comply . . . for now.

"That's good . . ." Michael yawned. "You wanna get up and eat? We have your favorite: blueberry pancakes," Michael smiled, saying the last part with a sing-songy tone.

Jeremy lifted his head, "yeah, that sounds good."

Michael nodded, though it took a minute or two more of snuggling for Jeremy to actually get off of him and grabbed his blanket. Michael tried not to look at Jeremy, who was barely even wearing anything (he'd rushed over!), as he got up himself, stretching before flashing his now-covered-with-a-blanket buddy a grin, "alright, up the stairs we go!"

"Yayyy . . . " Jeremy replied, albeit a bit sarcastically.

Michael began making his way upstairs, hoping that his house wasn't too messy. He'd been alone for the past week (his parents were on a business trip to Cleaveland) and he'd only done the bare minimum when it came to housekeeping . . . that reminded him: he needed to buy laundry detergent later. Jeremy sat down at the table, looking a little uncomfortable as he pulled his blanket closer. Michael wondered if that was because of the nightmares or the fact that all he was wearing was boxers, but he didn't draw attention to it.

Michael opened the fridge, grabbing the covered plate of blueberry pancakes he'd made the other day and humming as he set them down on the counter. He took the plastic wrap off the plate and set a few pancakes on another plate, then he put it into the microwave to heat it up. He soon took the warm plate out of the microwave and applied butter to the pancakes, then he took two of them and put them on a separate plate for himself, drizzled syrup on both plates, and finally set down he and Jeremy's plates on the table.

Michael dug right into his breakfast (hey, he was hungry), though he noticed Jeremy was a lot less . . . enthusiastic about eating them. Did he not like them?

"They good?" Michael asked after a moment, ready to give Jeremy something else if he wanted it. He could just eat Jeremy's . . . it was fine. Anything for his best friend.

(Okay, maybe it hurt a little, but it was fine!)

"What? Yeah, yeah, they're great." Jeremy smiled, taking another bite. "Thank you."

Hm. Okay. So if he liked them . . . then something must be on his mind.

"Hey, dude . . . " Michael began after a second. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yeah, of course I do. That's why I came to you last night," Jeremy replied, looking down at his plate.

Suddenly, Jeremy straightened his posture. Michael wondered why he did that . . . was he frightened? Was it a nervous tic? If it was, Michael had never noticed it before. It almost reminded Michael of the way Jeremy had acted the week after he'd woken up in the hospital, robotic and sharp with every movement. But . . . he hadn't been like that in a while. Micheal realized the nightmares were probably connected to the SQUIP, and it was now affecting Jeremy again . . . Michael just wished he could help more.

"Jer?" Michael called out, hoping to break whatever trance Jeremy was in. Now wasn't the time for thinking about things . . . that could only lead to Jeremy being more nervous. Now was the time for pancakes and friendship.

"Mm? Yeah?" Jeremy blinked, raising a brow and looking even more nervous than before. Shit.

"You just seem a little . . . " Michael paused. Should he even say it? Well, he'd already started his sentence . . . "Flinchy."

"I'm fine," Jeremy insisted, though Michael didn't buy it. "Just need to keep up my posture so I don't become the next hunchback of Notre Dame, haha . . . "

Okay, so Michael could tell Jeremy didn't want to talk about it. That was fine. If he wanted to make jokes and pretend it was all okay, then Michael would let him. They could be serious later. Still, Michael didn't really know how to respond, so he ended up giving a half-assed laugh along with Jeremy, hoping he was making things better and not more awkward.

It wasn't like the old times, yeah, but . . . at least he could make Jeremy happy now. Well, he thought he had before, but then . . .

No. He wasn't going to think about that again. Jeremy had apologized. It was a mistake. He  _did_ value Michael's friendship.

Michael knew he was a good friend. Well, he was pretty sure he was. But he was determined to be better, especially now.

And right now, what Jeremy needed was some bro time. Maybe a joint.

"So, uh," Michael started a bit sheepishly as they finished their breakfast, "you wanna stay over, or . . . ?"

"Ah, man, I want to, but . . . I'm sort of still grounded. I need to get home before my dad comes back for his lunch break and finds out I'm gone." Jeremy scratched his head. "I'll be fine though. And we can hang out another time, right?" Jeremy offered a smile.

Oh . . . well then. That was fine. If Jeremy couldn't . . . or didn't want to . . . that was fine.

Even if it had been a while since they'd actually hung out. Even if Jeremy spent his free time with Christine nowadays. Even if Michael felt like he was being swept under the rug . . . no. Stop. It was fine. He had to think about Jeremy's side of things. Jeremy was hurting right now. And Jeremy had come to  _him_ last night. They were still close . . . they were still best friends. Just . . . not the same as before.

"I'll drive you back," Michael decided, getting up from his chair and taking both their plates to the sink. "Also, you might want to put on some clothes before your dad gets back. He'll think you had Christine over or something," he chuckled a bit dryly, smirking as he looked to Jeremy.

Jokes would make things better. That's why they existed, after all. And at least the core of them was the same. Some things were different, but this was the same.

"Yeah, har har har," Jeremy got up, wrapping the blanket a bit tighter around himself. "You know very well that we haven't even kissed yet, Michael."

Oh, Michael knew. And he was secretly a little glad about that . . . of course he wanted Jeremy to be happy, but that didn't stop him from being a little (okay, a lot) jealous of Christine. Crushes on one's best friend always screwed things up . . . didn't they?

"Of course you haven't," Michael chuckled, hoping he sounded like a supportive best friend instead of a hopeless gay loser. "If you had I would be the first to know. You'd never shut up about it." Michael walked over to the door, "so uh, car?" his brow rose as he grabbed the keys off the hook on the wall, his lips curving up into a small smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeremy returned the smile, walking over to the door Michael was now holding open. "Let's go." Michael closed the door behind Jeremy, walking to the car and opening the door. Jeremy gave a small smile and a thank you before Michael walked around the front to get into his own seat.

The teen inserted his keys, then adjusted his mirror to make sure he could see everything correctly. (He might not care about most things, but car safety was important.) He backed out of the driveway, then started driving in the direction of Jeremy's house, the only sound being whatever Bob Marely song was playing on the radio right now. But soon enough, Michael noticed Jeremy's breathing getting more noticeable, and he put his hand on his chest. Which, of course, was not normal behavior.

"Jeremy, you okay?" Michael asked, concerned as he spared a glance towards his friend.

"Yeah, yeah . . ." Jeremy said through his clenched teeth. He took a breath, "just a headache, sorry. No big deal."

"Alright . . ." Michael tapped his finger on the wheel along with the beat of the soft music. He didn't believe that it was just a headache, but he knew prodding wouldn't get him anywhere. "Tell me if it gets worse, okay? I'll buy you some medicine or something."

"I-I will . . . " Jeremy gave a weak smile. "Y-you don't need to do that, though."

"Of course I do," Michael insisted, "I'm your best friend." Honestly, buying medicine and offering emotional support was like . . . his  _main job_. That's how this thing worked.

"Yeah . . . you are . . . " Jeremy gave a small laugh, though it sounded more like a wheeze. As they pulled into Jeremy's driveway, the boy seemed to perk up, "I've gotta go, see you!" before he practically leaped out of the car, leaving Michael sitting in the driver's seat with a confused expression.

"Um . . . bye?" Michael said, though Jeremy wasn't even in sight anymore.

That was . . . really weird. Michael didn't really know why Jeremy was acting so weird . . . this was definitely more than just nightmares. And to be honest, it kind of hurt that Jeremy wouldn't tell him anything, though he got not wanting to talk about personal problems. Still, he and Jeremy used to tell each other  _everything_ . . . was that not their policy now?

Who was he kidding . . . that hadn't been their policy since Jeremy had gotten that stupid SQUIP.

With a sigh, Michael tightened the grip on his steering wheel, deciding that now was as good a time as ever to go get that laundry detergent.


	3. Tide Pods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael goes to the store to buy some laundry detergent and finds out some terrible things when he gets home.

Michael's PT Cruiser pulled into the parking spot smoothly as he sighed, moving the stick into park and closing his eyes for a moment.

He really didn't know what was up with Jeremy. He was just acting so  _off_ today, and Michael didn't think it was just because of the nightmare . . . but why couldn't Jeremy just be honest with him and talk about it? Michael understood not wanting to be a burden. He understood being afraid to put fears into words. But they'd always shared everything with one another . . . that was, until the SQUIP had come into the mix. Michael blamed that stupid pill for a lot of their problems, and now their distant friendship was becoming one of them.

Michael opened his eyes and tried not to dwell on that, instead shifting his attention to what he needed to pick up at the store. He took out his keys and got out of his car, shoving his hands into his hoodie's pockets as he walked up to the store.

Soon enough he was inside, walking down the empty aisle as he tried to find wherever the heck the laundry detergent was. He probably should also buy some fabric softener . . . and also some dryer sheets. That's all he needed to wash clothes, right?

Letting out another sigh, he bent down, finally spotting some laundry detergent, and stared at his options blankly. _Tide Pods_ _or_   _Gain_? Michael bit his lip and hummed, looking at the prices of each, then at how many uses he could get out of them, before deciding that he didn't care and grabbed the Tide Pods. He stood, then began searching for the fabric softener.

Maybe he should stop by Jeremy's house again later, just to make sure he was okay. After all, what kind of best friend would he be if he let behavior like this go unnoticed? He'd be a loser of a person if he didn't at least  _try_ and reach out. And Jeremy definitely didn't deserve a loser as a friend.

"Stop," Michael immediately thought aloud in response to that idea, barely caring if he was crazy for talking to himself. "You're not a loser. He didn't mean when he said that. You forgave him. You've been over this a million times, so stop thinking about it. You need to focus on the fabric softener."

With that, Michael forced himself to care which smell he wanted for his clothing,  _Sea Breeze_ _or_   _Lovely Lavender?_  That should have been an easy choice, but somehow Michael couldn't decide which one was better. He picked both bottles up, holding them out in front of him as he bit his lip. They were exactly the same in every way besides the smell, so Michael decided to sniff them. Like, not  _sniff_ them, but just . . . see which smell he preferred. 

 _Sea Breeze._ Definitely Sea Breeze _._

With that, Michael grabbed whichever dryer sheets his mom always bought, and then he made his way to the cashiers.

"That'll be $24.50," the cashier said, looking completely devoid of emotion this early in the morning. Michael could understand that, so he just gave them a small, knowing nod before handing them a twenty dollar bill and then a five. Once he got his precious fifty cents back, he grabbed his bag of items and was on his way out.

Within two minutes he'd thrown his bag into his car and gotten into the driver's seat, though he was in no hurry to leave the parking lot. He decided to just sit for a moment, thoughts once again wandering to Jeremy.

It wasn't like he  _wanted_ them to, but . . . he just couldn't help it. Jeremy _was_ his best friend and crush, after all, so it only made sense that he'd spend a lot of time thinking about him, but . . . right now he just didn't know what to do. He just wanted to help Jeremy out, fix all this stupid shit the SQUIP had done to him, but Jeremy didn't want to open up about it. Michael realized that maybe Jeremy  _wanted_ to talk about it, but . . . maybe it was just too much. Michael knew how badly the incident had hurt him for a while after, but he was pretty sure he was okay now, but Jeremy . . . Jeremy had probably gotten the worst of it.

Jeremy had been a jerk, yeah, but he'd also been emotionally and physically abused by that thing, not to mention almost raped and probably almost beat up by Jake,  _and_ he'd almost lost control of his entire body while he was trying to save everyone. He hadn't even been able to stop himself from fighting Michael at the play, and he almost hadn't been able to physically apologize, though Michael hadn't realized that at the time. And then, to top it all off, Jeremy had been in a coma for a week, which had scared the _hell_ out of Michael, though he was almost glad Jeremy hadn't been conscious for the intense pain (from what Michael had heard, the headaches were terrible for the first three days) and questioning everyone else had gone through. 

Still, Jeremy _really_ needed help.

But Michael also knew that Jeremy needed time -- and that Jeremy was technically still grounded -- so he decided to give him a little space before he approached him with any prodding questions.

* * *

He didn't actually get around to  _doing_ his laundry until like 5 pm because he'd spent the entire day straightening up the kitchen and then playing _World of Warcraft,_ but he still felt proud of himself for doing it at all.

However, he hadn't expected his stupid phone to buzz so much while he was doing it. It was really annoying, actually. He just wanted to do his laundry. But apparently all the sort-of-friends he barely even knew he had wanted his attention (or maybe a spammer was contacting him) and after what must have been the billionth vibration, Michael finally picked up his phone.

He had fifty-five texts from Rich.  _Fifty-five texts_. . .from  _Rich._ Besides that, there were five texts from Jenna Rolan, and two from Chloe and Brooke respectively.

What the actual hell?

Michael slid one of the notifications from Chloe first, not wanting to read all of Rich's texts until he absolutely had to, and was confused to see a single message that said . . .

> **Michael wtf did you tell him to do that??? Is this bc of your giant gay crush on him??? (Don't pretend it isn't obvious honey)**

What??? Michael had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

> _???_

Michael moved on to Brooke while he waited for his answer. Her text was just as confusing.

> **MICHAEL WHATEVER YOUR MIDDLE NAME IS MELL YOU BETTER TALK SOME SENSE INTO JEREMY**   **OR I STG**

What the hell??? What did Jeremy do???

> _???_

Michael moved on to Jenna's texts, which were  _much_ more informative, but somehow even more confusing.

> **BIG GOSSIP!!!**
> 
> **Jeremy Heere broke up with Christine!!!**

What the hell?!?!?! Jeremy did  _what_?!

> **Christine says that Jeremy "dumped [her] in the worst way imaginable! [She doesn't] know how [she] can ever show [her] face at school again!"**
> 
> **So yeah, Jeremy Heere is a jerk :)**
> 
> **Anyways, spread the news by linking to my Twitter, @JennaRolanGossip!**

Damn. Just . . . damn. What the hell did Jeremy do?

Michael went to Jenna's Twitter and found a thread of tweets explaining the breakup. From what he could gather, Jeremy gave Christine a Christmas present (he's Jewish???) which was just a box with a note inside that said something along the lines of "congratulations! You're single now!" The thread already had . . . _ten thousand_ retweets?! Jenna had even linked to some _Facebook_ posts about it. Michael could barely process what he was reading, and he had no idea why in the world Jeremy would ever do such a douchey thing . . . maybe he was drunk? Damn, if this idiot was going to make the entire school hate him because of some drunk mistake then Michael didn't know what he'd do.

Quickly, Michael texted Jeremy, wanting to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

> _Yo, dude, are you ok???_
> 
> _News is spreading fast about what happened_

Michael sighed, praying that Jeremy wasn't in huge trouble or something and continued his texts.

> _Like, I'm pretty sure Jenna told the whole school_
> 
> _And the whole state_
> 
> _And the next state_
> 
> _It's all over Twitter_
> 
> _And facebook (who_ _uses that?)_
> 
> _Anyways, you good?_

Michael decided to read Rich's texts, which might have some more information, but they seemed to just be a more detailed version of what Jenna had said. Why Rich of all people knew the story so well, Michael didn't know, but he'd decided long ago to never question how Rich did anything unless he wanted to be scarred for life or taken by aliens (which he was sure Rich was), so he just ignored it, not even responding to him.

After twenty minutes with no reply from Jeremy, Michael tried again, thinking Jeremy was probably too ashamed to speak to anyone, or he'd shut off his phone due to the hundreds of messages he was probably receiving. Or maybe nobody was texting him . . . maybe they were all too mad at him to even give him the satisfaction of existing in their minds (which was pretty cruel, but also normal for teenagers.)

> _Hello?_

After thirty minutes, there was still no reply. Michael really hoped Jeremy wasn't kidnapped or something. Maybe his dad had taken his phone away . . .

> _You alive?_

Michael decided to finish the laundry and head to his room, which took another ten minutes, and then he turned on his Xbox to kill time until Jeremy responded. One entire hour of Fallout later, Jeremy  _still_ hadn't texted him.

> _Jer?_

Michael played for another hour. No response. He was starting to get really worried . . . what if something had happened to Jeremy? Or was Jeremy just avoiding talking to him? What the hell was even happening anymore?

> _Jeremy Isaiah Heere!_

It was around 8:30 pm now, and there was still no response. Michael tired again, desperate for an answer . . . literally  _any_ response would be great.

> _I stg if you don't answer me I am going to your house and forcing you to tell me what the hell is going on!_

After five minutes, Michaell finally received an answer. He let out a long sigh, smiling because at least now he knew Jeremy was  _alive._

But the text itself? That just made him more confused.

> **I'll text you later. I need to process things first. But everything is fine, I promise <3**

Did Jeremy just . . . send him a heart? And did he use actual grammar? And periods? And  _commas_???

Either someone had stolen Jeremy's phone, or . . . Jeremy was  _really_ out of it.

But . . . Michael knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he prodded, so he agreed to wait until whenever 'later' was, replying to Jeremy within a minute.

> _Okay... ttyl then_

With that, Michael decided to try and sleep. He wasn't going to get anywhere with Jeremy for now, and he didn't want to deal with everything else, so being unconscious for a few hours was the best option. Hopefully, things would work out tomorrow . . . 

* * *

Michael woke up around nine the next morning, still in his clothes though he'd at least set his glasses down on his nightstand so they didn't break. He sleepily grabbed them, rubbing his eyes before putting them on and forcing himself to get out of bed. He grabbed his phone and sat in the chair at his desk, spinning around in it as he checked for any reply from Jeremy.

Still none . . .

Michael sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. What was he even going to do? Jeremy better have a good explanation for this . . . Michael didn't know Christine very well, but after a year of Jeremy obsessing over her, he at least knew that she was a nice girl who didn't deserve to be dumped like that. Maybe Jeremy had freaked out and decided a note would be the best way? Maybe he thought a prank would lighten the blow? But Michael knew Jeremy wasn't so stupid that he'd think giving someone a  _present_ that was really just a note saying they were being dumped was a good idea, so he again assumed Jeremy must have been either high or drunk when he did it. Still, if he wasn't, then Michael had no explanation.

He'd forgive Jeremy. Of _course_ he'd forgive Jeremy, he always did, and it was his job to be there for him when he did something stupid. But this? . . . this was probably the most stupid thing Jeremy had ever done, right after the SQUIP, of course. But  _wh_ _y_ he would do such a thing Michael just could  _not_ understand.

Michael was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzed. A text from Jeremy. _Finally!_

> **Hey man, can you come over?**

Michael's response was almost instantaneous.

> _Yeah, just give me five minutes._

Michael was already on his way to his car when he pressed send, grabbing his keys off the hook as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

Time to figure out what was going on.

* * *

When Michael arrived at the Heere household, he almost jumped out of his car, heading right in and making his way to Jeremy's room. He didn't need to knock, they were too good of friends for that, and this situation was above knocking. He wouldn't be surprised if Jeremy was crying in his room. Whatever Jeremy needed, he'd provide comfort, and then he could yell at him about being such an idiot. Then, they'd fix it. One step at a time.

Michael walked into Jeremy's room, noticing the almost confused expression on Jeremy's face. "Dude, what's going on? You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so, I . . . I think I blacked out a bit when you dropped me off yesterday. I'm a bit dazed." Jeremy explained, but Michael was sure he'd heard him wrong because he was definitely  _not_ blacked out yesterday.

He rose a brow, wondering why Jeremy would even say that. "Yesterday? But you . . . you weren't blacked out yesterday."

 ****"Um, yeah I was," Jeremy insisted, crossing his arms. "I've been asleep the whole time."

What the hell? No?

"No," Michael argued, "you were awake. Very awake. You . . . wait, did you get high? Is that why you don't remember anything?"

"No, no I didn't!" Jeremy said, blinking. "I was asleep!"

"No you weren't!" Michael's voice was rising now, and he couldn't help it. He was getting angry. Why couldn't Jeremy just admit the truth? "You texted me, remember?!"

"No, that . . . okay, maybe I like woke up or something and replied? But I swear I was asleep!" Jeremy fought, though he was making less and less sense by the second.

"No, you weren't'!" Michael insisted, almost yelling now.

"How do you know that?!" Jeremy yelled back, and Michael just couldn't take this anymore.

"BECAUSE YOU BROKE UP WITH CHRISTINE YESTERDAY, DAMMIT!"

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy makes some bullshit excuses for his behavior and Michael gets kicked out. Not a good way to resolve things.

Michael's breathing was heavy, his raised arms slowly coming back down. His chest heaved as he stared at Jeremy, unable to even _fathom_ why Jeremy would pretend that never happened.

And then?

And then Jeremy continues to pretend.

"I . . . what?"

"You dumped her, man!" Michael said, hands going in the air once again. He wasn't quite yelling anymore, but his tone was still aggressive. "That's why I was texting you! Everybody knows, and I know you said you weren't super close to her yet, but dumping her? Why, Jer? You told me everything was fine, a-and you just needed to 'think about it', but now I'm here to talk to you and you just . . . deny it ever happened? What the hell?" Michael was pulling at his hair now, feeling so angry and . . . just so confused as to why Jeremy was _still_ acting like this.

"I . . . " Jeremy looked down at his hands, staring at them for a moment before Michael realized he was crying.

_Ah shit._

"Jeremy?" Michael was immediately concerned. "Jer, it's okay, I'm sorry, calm down," he said, wrapping his arms around the crying male as he rubbed his back gently.

They stayed like that for maybe a minute, Michael's anger replaced with concern. It was obvious Jeremy was going through something, and though he still hadn't told Michael what it was, he was going to comfort him until he was ready to share. That was how this worked.

Suddenly, Jeremy winced, pulling away from Michael.  ****"I-I'm fine, really. I . . . I can't talk about Christine right now. I just . . . " Jeremy paused. "She wasn't my type. I didn't like her. She didn't want to do anything besides go to the mall and talk about musicals anyways."

"O-oh . . ." Michael bit his lip, shocked by the sudden harshness of Jeremy's words. "Okay. Just . . . did you have to be so mean about it, Jer?" he asked softly, wondering if maybe Jeremy hadn't realized how much of a douche he'd been.

"I . . . " Jeremy blinked, "I don't . . . I'm sorry, I need to . . .  do things. And I'm still grounded. I think you should go." 

What? Wait, no . . . This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Jeremy never kicked Michael out . . .

"Jer . . . " Michael bit his lip, internally cursing himself for sounding so hurt. Why was this even happening? Jeremy had never liked to be alone before in times like these. Was it possible that he didn't need Michael anymore? Was he just some extra weight Jeremy carried around because he felt like he needed to?

Was he really just a loser?

"Sorry," was all Jeremy said, but Michael didn't know if he believed that.

Michael just sighed, frowning as he gave a small wave and made his way out of the bedroom. He sniffed as he opened Jeremy's front door, looking back for a moment and hoping that Jeremy would call him back and apologize.

He didn't.

Michael turned towards the door again, walking outside and letting it close behind him. He barely made it to his care before the first tear rolled down his cheek.

Michael's first instinct was to take off his glasses, which he set in the cupholder (not the best place, but he didn't care) as he felt the warm, salty tears running down his face. He hiccuped as he tried to breathe normally, shuddering as he cried. He brought his knees up to his chest, holding himself until this all stopped.

Jeremy didn't want to talk to him.

Jeremy didn't want his help.

Jeremy didn't need him.

Nobody needed him.

He was dead weight.

Michael sniffed, raising his head from the barricade he'd made with his arms. He turned them over, pulling down one of the sleeves and staring at the PacMan tattoo he'd gotten with Jeremy to celebrate their friendship. It felt like an empty promise now . . . did Jeremy even like his? Probably not. He most likely regretted it. Michael's gaze trailed down to the horizontal scars running down his wrist, permanent reminders of moments just like this one etched right into his skin.

He let his fingers lightly ghost over the scars, sniffing again as he stared at them. He hadn't done that since that stupid party, back when Jeremy called him a loser.

He . . . he'd apologized for that. He'd said he was sorry. He'd fixed everything. He'd told Michael how much he meant to him. But . . . Michael couldn't help but think it was the truth.

He  _was_ a loser. He was a loser, and he had no friends, and Jeremy hated him.

Jeremy . . . hated him.

Michael shuddered once again, pushing the sleeve back up and burying his face in his hands, breathing shaky and uneven. 

He needed to think rationally. He . . . he wouldn't let himself fall into that pit again. Jeremy probably just . . . needed some more time. Maybe he really didn't want to push Michael away. Maybe he was just scared and ashamed of what he'd done . . . maybe what he'd said the other night about Michael being a good friend was true.

Michael tried to keep that in mind, and he slowly stopped crying a few minutes later. He backed out of Jeremy's driveway, hoping he hadn't noticed he'd never left, and made his way back home, flopping down on his bed and staring at his wall for a good ten minutes.

He just wanted to sleep again. He just wanted things to be normal. He just wanted to help . . .

Well, sleep seemed like a good first step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but that's two today sooooo ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I hope y'all are enjoying this so far! For those of you who are reading this before you read Things It Said To Me . . . you're in for a wild ride. Actually, all of you are. Happy angsting, and feel free to yell at me in the comments or on my Tumblr (princessmuk).


	5. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is anxious to see Jeremy at school. But before he gets the chance to, he discovers something terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this update took so long! I've been pretty busy with exam hell and then taking a break from responsibility because /summer/, but I'm back now! Updates should be more frequent now. ^^

Michael woke up to the sound of his stupid alarm blaring next to him, setting the tone for what was likely to be a terrible day.

The Filipino didn't really know why he felt that way -- besides the lingering anxieties from his encounter with Jeremy yesterday, but he was hoping Jeremy had calmed down -- but he had a gut feeling that something  _bad_ was going down today.

With a sigh, Michael got out of bed, throwing on his hoodie and slipping into his sneakers before he grabbed his bag and headed off to the driveway. He got into the PT Cruiser and backed out, noting that school started in 45 minutes before shifting into drive and heading towards Seven-Eleven. Michael hummed along to the radio as he drove, trying very hard to ignore his intuition. He just wanted to get a damn slushie and go to school . . . then hopefully he could talk things out with Jeremy and help him to not be completely destroyed by everyone in the freaking town because of his  _stupid_ mistake with Christine. As much as Michael hadn't wanted Jeremy to date Christine (*cough* gay crush *cough*), he knew that they were happy together, and he definitely hadn't wanted it to end like this.

Still, he couldn't do anything about that until he figured out  _why_ Jeremy was acting out like this. It must have had something to do with the nightmares, though . . . that really didn't justify Jeremy's actions. But Michael would be there for him because Michael was  _always_ there for him, no matter what stupid things he did. That's what best friends were for, after all. No matter how many times Jeremy screwed up, Michael would be by his side. Sometimes that meant telling him he was being an idiot and demanding an apology, yeah, but most times . . . Jeremy just needed to know someone was there for him. Then he'd usually realize the error in his ways, and then they could fix it together. That was how it always worked.

Well, that's how it  _had_ always worked. Now . . . Michael wasn't so sure. Jeremy had never pushed him away like this before, not in all of their twelve years of friendship. It almost boggled his mind, though deep down, he knew things were different now. The SQUIP had changed everything. Michael had gone from distress to heartbreak to worry to thinking they were stronger and better for it all, but now . . . now he was back to anxiety, it seemed.

Michael was pulled out of his thoughts as he realized he was pulling into the parking lot of Seven-Eleven. He hadn't been paying much attention on the way, but this was routine for him so he supposed he didn't really have to pay attention anymore . . . it was like reflex, almost.

After Michael parked, he got out of his car, sulking as he walked into the small building. He gave a small wave to the girl at the counter, grabbing his normal sushi and setting it down in front of her.

"One cherry slushie for you?" she asked, already heading to the machine. He was a regular here, so he wasn't surprised that she knew his order by now.

He wasn't sure if they were considered anything more than acquaintances, though, since their conversations never went farther then the normal "here's your money, here's your receipt, have a good day" that took place at every cash register. Still, they had a sort of silent understanding between them, and it was that silent understanding that led the girl to give him a little extra slushie this morning. He internally blessed the girl before he responded:

"Yeah, thanks," Michael nodded, grabbing a wad of cash out of his pocket. He handed her the crumpled dollar bills before taking his "meal" and receipt, offering her a forced smile before he made his way out, already sipping the slushie.

Nothing like Seven-Eleven to ease the stress of a slowly deteriorating friendship.

Michael got back into his car after a _bit_ of difficulty getting the door open since he had full hands (a daily struggle) and set his sushi in the passenger seat before backing out once again and driving towards the school. 

The teen slurped his slushie as he drove (probably not the safest thing, but he didn't care) and tried to shake the weird feeling away, hoping that he was just anxious to talk to Jeremy again. He just wanted to get to the bottom of his friend's problems and help fix them . . . but he didn't know how he was going to do that if Jeremy kept shutting him out like that. It was even scarier since it had never happened before. All of their problems used to be solved by getting high and playing some video games, but after the incident, Jeremy no longer liked to put strange substances in his body (understandably) and Michael had been waning off of it as well. He hadn't smoked a joint in at least a week and a half, actually. Still, that wasn't the point . . . the point was that their coping mechanisms were now gone, or at least different, and Michael didn't know what he was supposed to do, especially since this particular problem was probably much more serious than the normal "why doesn't my crush like me back am I worthless oh shit I'm crying" ones. 

But . . . maybe all hope wasn't lost. Maybe Michael could get Jeremy to talk to someone . . . no, that wouldn't work. Nobody would believe them, and making up a cover story probably wouldn't help Jeremy's psyche. Or Michael's, for that matter. Hm . . . maybe he should find help for them both.

He'd keep that in mind, but first . . . he had to get through Chemistry and then (hopefully) talk to Jeremy.

* * *

 

All through Chemistry class, Michael was nervous.

He couldn't pay attention to whatever Mr. Raymond was saying about chemical bonds, and he most certainly wasn't writing any of it down. His notebook was filled with doodles of soda bottles, video game characters, and many small pills falling from a dark cloud. Needless to say, he was worried about the SQUIP again.

It was gone. He knew it was gone. But that didn't mean it didn't have any long-term effects . . . Michael had had nightmares for about a week after the incident, but Jeremy's apparently hadn't stopped. If that fact wasn't worrying enough, Michael was pretty sure that stupid pill had something to do with why Jeremy was acting out, whether it be the things it used to say to him or because Jeremy was realizing that his life wasn't really in his control. It was pretty scary to think about, to be honest. Why did this all have to happen to  _them_ , anyway? Why did they deserve this bullshit in their lives?

Michael jumped a bit as the bell rang, signaling that class was over. He shoved his notebook in his bag -- which still said "reinds" on it, by the way (and apparently Rich didn't know how to spell "friends" correctly, looking at the way the "i" and the "e" were switched) -- and swung it over his shoulder, picking up his slushie and mostly-drunken slushie before walking out of the room. His next class, U.S. Government, was one he shared with Jeremy, so he was hoping to talk to him then. Michael sped up his pace as he headed to the class, sitting down in his seat with a small huff.

He waited for Jeremy to come in. He watched the door, eyes darting to the clock every few seconds to see what time it was. Soon enough, everyone was in class besides Jeremy, and there were only two minutes left before class started. Where the hell was he? Did he not show up to school today?

Class began to start and Jeremy was  _still_ a no-show. Michael sunk into his seat, looking at the empty desk next to him with a frown. Discreetly, he pulled out his phone under the desk, ignoring the teacher droning on about whatever part of the legal system they were talking about and going into his texting app. He went to Jeremy's contact and was about to text him when suddenly someone ran into the room.

"DUDE! JEREMY HEERE JUST BEAT UP JAKE DILLINGER AND RICH GORANSKI!"

Michael dropped his phone along with his jaw, blinking as he stared at whoever was running in the halls in awe. The class came to life as students began gossiping, some even standing up and leaving the room to check out what was going on. Michael, however, was still in shock, unable to move or breathe or even process what he'd just heard.

Jeremy . . . beat up . . . Jake and Rich? The two most popular guys in school? The two most popular guys in school that were kind of their  _friends_ now?

What the actual hell.

Once Michael finally realized that almost everyone had left the room already, he got up, ignoring the teacher's futile attempts at keeping the remaining students in class. He ran through the halls, breathing heavily as he did so. When he arrived, all he could see was a crowd surrounding Jake and Rich, who were supporting one another so they could stand correctly. Jake was asking Rich if he was okay, and Rich just looked like some broken husk of what he usually was. Michael bit his lip, looking out at the crowd that obviously wasn't helping the situation.

Michael made his way through the crowd and got to the front, catching Jake's gaze. Jake just frowned at him -- probably since he was a loser and also Jeremy's best friend -- and Michael mouthed "I'm sorry" back to him. Jake rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Rich, who had a  _nasty_ black eye forming.

Michael reached for his phone, only to realize he'd left it back in the classroom along with his bag. Michael let out a huff of annoyed breath before he jogged back towards the class, hoping he wasn't wasting time here. God, this was bad. This was really, really bad.

_Jeremy, what have you done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry! Michael wasn't there for the fight, oof. The next chapter is going to be pretty short as well, but the one after that will be longer!  
> Yell at me on Tumblr @princessmuk :)


	6. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael texts Jeremy. Jeremy says he'll come over to explain. What the hell is going on with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter! The next one will be much more eventful. Happy pride month!

 

By the time Michael got back to the classroom, he realized that it was locked.  _Locked._ Why the hell was it locked?! Where was the teacher? 

Frantically, Michael looked around, trying to spot anyone who might have any idea why the door was locked, or possibly someone who could open the door with their key (or by picking the lock, he didn't freaking care). Unfortunately, no adults seemed to be in this damn hallway, and he didn't see anyone who looked like they broke into convenience stores for fun, so he was officially out of ideas.

Michael moved the headphones around his neck to cover his ears (a nervous habit) before he realized _he couldn't even listen to his freaking music,_ and that only caused him to panic more. He couldn't text Jeremy. He couldn't get his music. He was stranded in the damn hallway and Jeremy was gonna freaking  _die_ from his stupid mistakes and he couldn't do a damn thing about it!  _Why_ was this his life?!

Michael pulled his hoodie over his head as he slumped against the wall, waiting for his asshole of a teacher to come back and open the freaking door so he could stop having a freaking _panic attack_  and help his friend. Jeremy needed him! He needed to get some sense talked into him, and he needed support, and advice, and many other things Michael could only offer if he could get to his damn phone!

Finally, after what seemed like a million years, he spotted his teacher coming down the hall, a few of his classmates in tow. Michael almost jumped up from his slouching position as the man approached, a relieved smile on his face.

"Oh, Mr. Raymond!" Michael greeted, tapping his legs nervously. "Thank god, I really need to get my stuff."

"And why is that?" Mr. Raymond asked as he inserted his key into the door's lock.

"I, um, I just left it in here and I wanted to make sure nobody like, stole my stuff or something," Michael lied, not really wanting to explain that he needed his phone so he could text during Mr. Raymond's class.

"Well, nobody did, so you can calm down," the man assured him before the door opened.

Michael and the few students who'd tagged along with Mr. Raymond entered the room, and Michael immediately went to his desk and picked up his bag, finding his phone on his seat. With a relieved sigh, Michael sat down, hiding his phone under his desk so he could text Jeremy.

> _Dude, wtf???_
> 
> _You beat up Rich???_
> 
> _And Jake???_

Michael's fingers seemed to type at the speed of sound, his worry and confusion on the entire matter only helping that. It was a miracle nobody noticed him typing, though he knew how to stay invisible in class. After a moment of no response, he began his texting again.

> _Where are you???_

Five minutes passed, and there was still no response. The class didn't have much longer left because of the entire fight fiasco, so hopefully, if he didn't respond Michael would be able to find him in the halls.

> _JEREMY_

He tried again, getting both more worried and more angry as time passed. What the hell was going on with him?! 

> **I'm sorry**

Finally, a text! Michael typed away furiously in response.

> _Yeah you better be_
> 
> _Wtf man?_
> 
> **I'm sorry**

Michael sighed, shaking his head. Jeremy could be sorry all he wanted, but he really needed to apologize to the people he'd  _actually_ hurt today. Also to Christine because heaven knows she deserved an apology.

> _I'm not the one who you should sorry to_

Micahel barely even noticed the typo in his text, too determined to get Jeremy back on the right path to care. He'd really messed up this time, which meant Michael had a  _lot_ of fixing to do. Of course, he wasn't going to do everything for Jeremy, but he sure as hell was going to find wherever Jeremy's common sense had gone and force it back into that boy's brain.

> **I know**
> 
> **I'm...**
> 
> _Where are you?_
> 
> **Home**
> 
> **Grounded**
> 
> **Again**
> 
> _Shit_
> 
> _Man what are you doing?_
> 
> **I don't know**
> 
> **I can't explain**

What the hell? What kind of an answer was that?! He didn't  _know?_ He needed to figure out what the hell was going on an explain himself ASAP.

> _You have to man_

After a moment of no response, Michael decided that if Jeremy wasn't going to explain over text, he was going to go to him. 

> _I'm coming over soon-- I only have one more class left before study hall_
> 
> **I'm grounded**
> 
> **I'll go to your house, okay?**
> 
> _OK_

The bell rang and Michael stood up, heading to his next class and _praying_ that he'd be able to help Jeremy fix this mess.


	7. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy comes over to explain himself, and it's Michael's job to help. But what happens when things go differently than expected?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such an idiot, it's actually the next chapter that's the longer one, oops! So sorry for the confusion. I swear it is actually the next chapter that is long, haha.

The moment study hall began, Michael ran down the halls, narrowly avoiding running into half the school before he made it to the parking lot. He got into his car, fumbling a bit when he tried to put in the keys, and backed out of his spot, making his way home as fast as he could. He wanted to actually be there when Jeremy came over, after all. He arrived back the quickest he ever had, and by the time he'd gotten into his kitchen and set down his stuff, the doorbell was ringing. He opened the door almost immediately, knowing exactly who it was.

His breathing was a little heavy as he did a quick once-over of Jeremy, who looked fine physically but seemed pretty scared. "Jer, hey, c'mere," Michael grabbed Jeremy's arm, dragging him inside as he shut the door with his foot. He led his friend down to the basement, wondering how he would approach this situation. He needed Jeremy to know that he was being an idiot, but he also needed to help him get through whatever was going on right now. Michael figured he'd start with asking why he was doing what he was doing. Michael plopped Jeremy down on his beanbag, then sat on his own, still holding one of his hands (for comfort reasons, obviously). "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

After a moment, Jeremy answered, "I just . . . I'm sorry, I got angry and I let my anger out on Rich. It was wrong, I know."

Jeremy's words helped Michael relax a little. He knew deep down it was all just due to Jeremy's misplaced anger, and he was glad that's all it was for now. Of course, Jeremy had royally screwed up, and he was being a huge idiot . . . time to be the one to tell him that. Michael just nodded, "that was really stupid, Jeremy. I . . . I honestly can't believe you would do that."

"I know . . . I'm sorry," Jeremy said softly. "It was so stupid, I wish I hadn't . . . " he trailed off, and Michael quickly realized he'd begun to cry.

Ah shit.

Okay, time to be comforting. He could chew him out more later.

Michael bit his lip, "hey, Jer, listen," he squeezed Jeremy's hand, "I'm not going to say it's okay, because it isn't, but you can fix this . . . Rich . . . well, he sort of deserved it, but you can apologize to him and make it up, okay?"

Jeremy nodded, the tears falling down his face making Michael feel worse about the whole thing. Yeah, he'd messed up, but Jeremy just seemed so confused and hurt . . . Michael was finding it really hard to be pissed at him. Disappointed, definitely, but . . . he was extremely bad at being angry at Jeremy. Always had been.

Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy, who was just crying into his sweatshirt, and rubbed his back. "I'm going to forgive you because I know how hard all of this is, and I know you're making bad choices because of that . . . but everyone else might not be so lenient." He paused, letting the crying male cuddle up to him. "We can forget about them for a bit, okay? I know this is all a mess . . . "

"N-no," Jeremy looked up at him with those desperate eyes Michael wished he could get lost in (wow, how gay was he?). "I have to fix--"

"Jeremy, I know, but not right now. Just let it out, okay?" Michael insisted, knowing that Jeremy really needed to get his emotions out right now. They could make a plan to fix it later. Jeremy just nodded in response, resting his head on Michael's shoulder.

"Thank you, Michael . . . " Jeremy said, nuzzling his head into Michael's chest. Michael swore his heart skipped it beat, or maybe it was fluttering . . . oh god, he was so gay. And this was so not the time.

"N-no problem, Jeremy . . . I-I'll always be there for you, okay?" Michael replied, trying to sound as normal as possible and not like he was currently drowning in gay feelings. He had to get back on track . . . he couldn't be thinking about his feelings.

"Okay," Jeremy nodded. "I'll be there for you, too . . . " Oh god, Jeremy did not have to say that, but . . . god, he was so sweet. That is, when he wasn't being an idiot and beating popular kids up. Damn, it was becoming really hard to ignore the pounding in his chest.

Suddenly Michael felt even more in love with his friend -- oh god, he had it bad if he was saying "in love" -- and he hoped Jeremy didn't notice when he froze, his mind quickly wandering to how much he wanted to kiss him. Michael tried not to think about that too much, though he didn't necessarily push the thought away. He relaxed, holding Jeremy a little tighter and letting his cheek rest on Jeremy's hair.

"I love you man," Jeremy said, immediately throwing Michael into another gay freakout. He knew that Jeremy loved him platonically. They'd said that to each other before. But this time . . . Michael couldn't help but feel like it meant something different. Maybe he just wished it did.  _God_ , he wished it did. But . . . he had to remain calm and act normal.

"I-I love you, too, Jer," Michael said, voice quiet and soft.

Jeremy's head rose, and he looked at Michael, breathing quietly. Michael could feel his heart beating faster and faster with every passing second. His gaze flickered to Jeremy's lips, his desperate need to kiss him growing stronger along with his pounding heart. He looked back into Jeremy's eyes, and he looked like he wanted it, too. Michael didn't know if this was even real. What if this was just some big mistake? What if Jeremy was just confused? What if he was reading this all wrong?

Michael let his hand move to Jeremy's shoulder. Then it moved to behind his neck. 

Since when had Jeremy ever thought of him as more than a friend? Since when had Jeremy ever looked at him like this?

Michael was leaning in.

Maybe this was why Jeremy had broken up with Christine? Why was he so confused lately? Oh god, Michael didn't know what he'd do if that was true. There was no way Jeremy felt the same, right?

But . . . Jeremy was leaning in, too.

Michael let his eyes close as his lips pressed against Jeremy's, and . . . wow. Just . . .  _wow_.

Kissing Jeremy was better than anything Michael had ever experienced. It was like the world was ending and beginning all at once . . . like everything suddenly came together and  _meant something_. Something important. Something amazing. Something . . .  _extraordinary._

And then Michael remembered what he was doing. He was kissing Jeremy. He was kissing Jeremy right after Jeremy had cried because he'd made mistakes because  _he was confused about literally everything and oh shit Michael had made it all worse._

Michael pulled away, practically trembling. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean--"

Jeremy cut him off, pressing his lips to Michael's once again. After a moment of being surprised, Michael kissed back, letting all of his emotions and love for Jeremy drive his passion. He let his hands cup Jeremy's face, pulling him closer as he kissed him. Jeremy wanted this. Jeremy wanted  _him_. Suddenly, it seemed like Jeremy's kissing got even more  _real_ , if that was even possible, his kisses softer yet somehow more desperate.

_God_ , Michael loved him. He never wanted this to stop . . . he wanted to keep kissing Jeremy forever.

So he did . . . for about five minutes until he realized that parting for a split-second for air just wasn't enough. When he looked at Jeremy, he saw the world in his eyes. And for once . . . Jeremy looked like he saw the same thing in Michael's.


	8. Inconsistencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael just got kissed by his crush. Life couldn't be better. But . . . why doesn't Jeremy remember their plans for college?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this chapter took so long! I've been pretty busy lately. But now I'm not anymore, so more chapters will be uploaded! (Yayyyy)

Michael couldn't stop smiling.

Kissing Jeremy . . . it had been  _incredible_. Nevermind their lack of experience, apparently Jeremy was naturally gifted, and kissing your crush? That was always amazing.

It was just . . . the best thing that had ever happened, frankly. Seriously, what could beat this? Sure, there were still things to deal with and apologies to be distributed, but . . . the only thing Michael could think about was how much he'd adored that kiss.

"That was . . . " Michael trailed off, searching Jeremy's face to see if he felt the same.

Jeremy looked a little . . . shook for a moment, but he soon smiled, "y-yeah . . . " Michael figured he was nervous about it all, which Michael kinda was, too (they'd just  _kissed_ \-- they had been best friends for one moment and the next they were  _kissing_ ) but he seemed to like it.

Speaking of being best friends one moment . . . were they dating now? Was that how this worked? Michael figured he should ask. He didn't want to think he was dating somebody only to realize it was all one-sided, after all . . . even if Jeremy  _had_ kissed him back.

"Jer . . . I . . . " Michael bit his lip. "Does this mean . . . ?" He wasn't sure why he couldn't bring himself to finish any sentences. Maybe it was Jeremy had taken his breath away . . . no, nevermind, that was a terrible pun.

"Uh . . . " was Jeremy's answer, his expression a bit hard to read but clearly confused about it all.

"I get it, sorry, a lot of pressure," Michael put up his hands. He shouldn't have expected things to change . . . but he should still make his feelings clear. "It's just . . . I've uh, I've liked you for . . . for the longest time . . . a-and . . . " Again, Michael couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

After a moment of Jeremy looking confused and saying nothing, Michael continued, scratching his neck. "A-anyways, I--"

"Yes." Jeremy's voice was lower now and much more confident. It was like he'd suddenly forgotten any of the conflicting voices in his head and realized that he wanted this more than anything . . . or, at least that's what Michael thought it sounded like. It was . . . kinda hot. But . . . had Michael heard that right? Was this even happening? Was life even real anymore?

"What?" he asked in disbelief, holding back a smile.

"Yes, it means . . . I-I want to be your boyfriend," Jeremy said, voice much more sincere by the end.

Michael couldn't contain his happiness as he grinned, unable to stop laughing as he squeezed Jeremy -- his  _boyfriend_ \-- as tight as he could.

Michael's heart was fluttering.  _Fluttering_. Everything just felt so  _right_. And like a dream . . . like none of it was real, yet it was so amazing it just had to be. Forget the kiss,  _this_ was the best moment of his life.

"Jeremy, I love you . . . " Michael couldn't help but say, giggling and nuzzling his cheek against Jeremy's.

"I-I love you, too, m--" Jeremy paused for a split second, which Michael credited to nerves, "Michael."

_Jeremy loved him._

"I . . . I'm sorry, I still can't believe this is happening. I've wanted this for so long . . . " Michael rambled as he pulled away, small laughs and breaths breaking his sentences. God, he was so happy. This was amazing. He was acting like such a dork. He loved it. He loved Jeremy. He loved everything . . . 

"I know . . . " Jeremy said,  _caressing_ his freaking cheek. (Since when was Jeremy so good at being romantic? Not fair.) "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how I felt."

"It's okay, Jeremy," Michael blushed. "I . . . I still can't believe this."

"Well you better," Jeremy kissed his nose (was he dead yet?), "because you're mine now."

His . . . Michael was his. Michael was Jeremy's. His best friend. His boyfriend. His lover. His everything . . .

Michael blushed and smiled before he giggled, pulling in Jeremy for another hug.

* * *

They cuddled for a while.

It was nice, just the two of them laying down together on the bed, limbs all tangled up as they just enjoyed each others presence and seemed to say everything they'd left unspoken without even opening their mouths.

After they'd cuddled, they moved on to video games. Jeremy whipped Michael's butt at Mario Kart a few times, and then Michael sniped Jeremy right before he leveled up in Call of Duty 4. It was equal embarrassment for them both, not to mention fun as hell, and for Michael . . . it was like a breath of fresh air.

Eventually, Jeremy had to go, and though Michael  _really_ didn't want him to, he allowed him to leave . . . after about seven more minutes of kissing on his bed. With Jeremy gone, all Michael could do was smile like a dork at his ceiling, laying in silence as he replayed the evening in his mind.

Was there even anything to worry about? Michael couldn't seem to remember . . . how could he with the feeling of Jeremy's lips still lingering on his?

Well . . . okay, there were things to be discussed. But . . . they could put it off until a bit later. Next time Michael saw Jeremy, they could talk. But for now . . . he just wanted to think about how happy this made him, and how much he loved Jeremy, through thick and thin.

* * *

When Michael woke up the next morning, he texted Jeremy. It was the first thing he did after opening his eyes, still half asleep as he typed.

> _Good morning <3_

He sighed contently before he got out of his bed, throwing on his red sweatshirt as he made his way to his bathroom. He splashed his face with water to help himself wake up before he got out his toothbrush to brush his teeth. Once he was finished with that, he noticed his phone light up, a notification that Jeremy had texted appearing on his screen. 

His heart fluttered wildly as he read it, just a simple 'gm <3' in response, but it meant the world to Michael.

Once he recovered from his little gay freakout, he remembered that since they were boyfriends now, he should probably do something . . . chivalrous. Like . . . oh!

> _Want me to drive you to school today? Since you're up early and all?_

After a moment, Jeremy responded.

> **yeah, that's cool**
> 
> **im almost done eating**

Michael smiled as he read the texts, grabbing his backpack from the floor and heading upstairs as he typed his response.

> _K, I'll be over in 5_
> 
> **k**

Michael was already walking out the door when Jeremy answered, spinning his keys around in his hand as he hummed _Could You Be Loved_. He got into his car with a smile, turning on the radio and grinning even wider when another Bob Marley song came on. He sang along to it softly, making it to Jeremy's house in about five minutes. As he pulled into Jeremy's driveway he saw Jeremy coming out of the door, backpack on as he waved.

Michael unlocked the car and Jeremy got in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek that made Michael blush. His entire body felt as if it were being struck by lightning for a moment, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"S-so," Michael coughed after Jeremy put on his seatbelt, a little embarrassed by how easily he apparently blushed, "is it okay if we stop by Seven Eleven before school and get slushies?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Jeremy said.

"Okay, cool," Michael flashed a smile, then focused on backing out of the driveway. Once they were driving normally, he glanced at Jeremy for a moment, trying to ignore how adorable Jeremy looked just sitting there. He looked back to the road, deciding he should focus on not killing them so he could continue to look at his boyfriend later. 

"You know, they have slushie machines at Warren," Michael told him. "Heard they're actually pretty good."

"Warren?" Jeremy questioned.

Wait, what? Did Jeremy not remember?

He must be tired. That must be it. They'd had like a billion conversations about going to Warren together, how could Jeremy forget?

"You know, Warren Community College?" Michael raised a brow, hoping the full name would spark Jeremy's memory. Maybe he just hadn't realized Michael was talking about the college . . . maybe he knew someone named Warren or something.

Jeremy just blinked, "oh, yes. That one. Great slushies."

Michael couldn't help but frown as he focused his attention back on the road again. Jeremy didn't remember. He didn't remember the college they'd both been planning on going to since their freshman year. He didn't remember their plans . . . 

Michael knew Jeremy loved him, but . . . did he really care?

Wait. Was . . . was he just a rebound from Christine?

Michael tried not to think about that, instead deciding to ask Jeremy, "so . . . speaking of colleges . . . what ones are you applying to?"

Maybe thinking about it would jog Jeremy's memory. Maybe then he'd remember, and he'd laugh it off and apologize, and tell Michael he was such a dumbass and he was tired and that's why he forgot. And then Michael would smile and tell him he wasn't a dumbass, and they'd both just laugh about it until the hurt went away.

Jeremy tapped his chin, thinking for a moment. Yeah, he must be remembering now. He must be remembering the conversations they'd had. The last one hadn't been too long ago . . . it was right after Rich told Jeremy about that evil SQUIP. Surely, he'd remember.

"I think I could get into an Ivy League school if I really wanted to. I just have to keep my grades up."

. . . what.

Michael's frown deepened as he processed that, wondering how the hell Jeremy thought he could get into an Ivy League school and also how the hell he'd managed to forget one of the most important topics they ever talked about!

"R-really, Jer?" Michael asked, trying to stay calm and not show how much this really hurt him. "Because your GPA is like . . . a 2.5."

"I can fix that," Jeremy calmly insisted, as if that weren't one of the hardest things a teenager could do. "I just have to get all A's and do extra credit work."

"S-since when did you start caring about Ivy League schools, anyway?" Michael asked, stealing another glance as they neared a stoplight. Jeremy didn't look like he was joking. He didn't even look worried.

God, what was his deal? First, he dumped Christine, then he acted out at school, then he kissed Michael, and now he was acting like their college plans -- something Michael had thought was very important to the both of them -- didn't exist?!

Jeremy shrugged, "I've been thinking about my future a lot lately . . . I want to be able to provide for myself," he paused. "And, of course, now that you're in the picture . . . all the more reason to have a good job."

"Oh . . . " was all Michael could say in response. It wasn't like he could say much else. As much as he wanted to . . . a part of him was scared of losing Jeremy again. Even if Jeremy was being a complete asshole . . .

Still . . . just . . . what the hell? Jeremy ignored their college plans and then acted like he was doing it because Michael was there? Acted like he cared?

Ugh . . . this was so dumb. Michael would be fine with them changing their plans. Well, it would still hurt, but he could understand. But acting like it never happened? Acting like they never made any plans? That was low. And it hurt much more than just changing course ever could have.

This was just like before. Michael had forgiven Jeremy for what had happened at Rich's party. Jeremy had apologized, and even though it had been shitty . . . Michael understood. He'd understood that Jeremy had messed up, and that he'd been stressed, (and as he'd learned from Jenna, almost raped), and he knew there was a lot going on, so he'd forgiven him. He really had . . . but it seemed Jeremy hadn't learned his lesson. He was back to saying things -- things that made absolutely no sense, and Michael hated it. 

It was like Jeremy wasn't even acting like himself lately! He was just . . . being so inconsistent, and such an asshole at times . . . god, he seemed to be acting more like that completely dumb and previously homophobic dick Rich than he ever--

Wait.

Rich.

Rich, who was probably okay freshman year but started acting like a complete asshole after he took a certain pill . . .

Was Jeremy . . . was the SQUIP back?

"What about you?" Jeremy asked, pulling Michael out of his thoughts.

Okay, if there was a possibility the SQUIP was somehow influencing Jeremy's words, or even that something else was going on . . . he figured he should play along for a moment. Maybe try to see if Jeremy reacted differently. Maybe there would be something in Jeremy's eyes . . . some flash of recognition, or of hurt if Michael said something other than Warren.

"I was thinking we could go to Yale together," he lied, searching Jeremy's eyes.

He saw nothing out of the ordinary as Jeremy nodded, "yes, that would be great. I'd love to go to college with you."

Hm . . . so maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he'd been paranoid. Maybe Jeremy was just . . . being a dumbass dick.

"Of course," Michael forced himself to say, tapping on the steering wheel. Maybe . . . just to make sure. Just to make sure he wasn't crazy. "You know we'll have to bring our favorite console .  .. "

"Yeah, Xbox!" Jeremy answered after a moment.

At least he remembered that . . . so it probably wasn't some weird sci-fi thing, right?

Michael nodded, forcing himself to smile a bit. "And we should get matching bed sheets, you know, for aesthetic . . . and you already know my favorite color . . . "

Though he was slightly hesitant to answer, Jeremy shouted out, "red!"

Michael forced a small laugh as he nodded again. It was then that they pulled into the school, "we're here," and parked.

Jeremy gave a small nod before he got out of the car. Michael got out as well, going around the front to meet Jeremy and walk by his side.

Okay, so something was up. But . . . Michael didn't know what. Jeremy was acting weird . . . there had to be something wrong. Maybe he didn't want to bother anyone with it? But whatever it was, it was obviously driving him crazy, no matter how normal he tried to act. God, Michael wished he could just talk about it, but what was he supposed to say? 'Hey Jer, I know you've been doing a lot of shitty things lately, so mind telling me what's wrong?' No, he couldn't. Because although Michael would usually call Jeremy out on his bullshit . . . he felt like something was different this time. The situation seemed like it could spiral into disaster if he did or said the wrong thing.

So . . . he stayed silent. For now. Until he figured out what he could do to help.

Jeremy grabbed Michael's hand as they walked, and even with everything, it still made him smile. Jeremy was being an asshole. A huge asshole. But . . . maybe he  _had_ just forgotten. At least, if nothing else, he was trying to be good at this whole boyfriend thing. 

Though . . . Michael was still pretty upset.

As they walked into the school, Michael could feel the atmosphere change. Everyone seemed to tense up around them, and though at first Michael thought it was because they were holding hands, he soon realized it was due to the fight Jeremy had gotten in the other day. God, was it going to be like this every day? Michael hoped not.

Michael would be lying if he said he wasn't a little glad when he and Jeremy parted ways for class. He loved Jeremy, he did, but . . . he wasn't sure how much more of Jeremy's weird behavior he could take. Something was off. He didn't know what, but something was causing Jeremy to act weird. Thinking it was the SQUIP or something was just paranoia -- they'd defeated the SQUIP, and there was no way Jeremy would take it again -- and yet Michael wasn't sure what the other explanations were . . .

He decided that he'd try and help however he could. He'd do research and try to figure out if he could find a disorder or something that would cause Jeremy to act this way, and while he waited for that to produce answers, he'd be there for him. He'd act normal as to not make things worse. He'd be a good friend . . . a good boyfriend. And then, once he got it all figured out, he'd talk to Jeremy about it. And together, they'd fix it.

They could fix this . . . they had to.

 


	9. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is dating Jeremy, and because of that everyone is now up in his business. It's really annoying. The more pressing matter, however, is trying to figure out what's wrong with Jeremy . . .  
> Oh, also, Jenna Rolan can suck it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy guess who finally updated after twenty years!  
> (So sorry for the wait guys, school is kicking my ass.)

**5 Things That are Weird About Dating Jeremy**

1\. They're adorably in love, even in public.

Michael had never been one for PDA. Besides the fact that he'd never had anyone to do it with, he'd always thought relationships were more of a . . . private thing. There was also the fact that he was gay as hell and would likely be mocked for any PDA he might perform, so . . . yeah. Still, Jeremy didn't seem to care at all. He held Michael's hand in the hall on the way to lunch. He even kissed him whenever they saw each other, even when there was only a minute before class started. It was a little embarrassing at first . . . but it was also really sweet.

2\. Jeremy was an amazing kisser.

It seemed that any time they kissed, Jeremy started off a little tense, but he would quickly ease up and bring what Michael could only describe as passion into it, kissing Michael like he'd lose himself if he stopped. It was really nice, to say the least, and Michael quite enjoyed it.

3\. Jeremy, though he was acting weird, was actually more 'Jeremy' than ever.

Jeremy talked to Michael a lot more now. He seemed a little overprotective, which Michael couldn't decide if he liked, but he often began conversations with Michael about things they hadn't talked about since before the SQUIP. Their favorite video games, that Weird Al concert they went to, Michael's failure of a tenth birthday party . . . it was fun talking and laughing with Jeremy again. It was just like old times . . . 

But Michael knew something was still off. He was reminded every time someone acted tense around them in the hallways, or when he caught the lingering gaze of a freshman who he knew was scared of the guy he'd heard had beat up the quarterback and his best friend. It only reminded him that something wasn't right and that he really needed to be finding out what that thing was.

4\. Jeremy took up a lot of his time.

Michael had meant to do more research than he had. Really, he'd meant to spend hours on his laptop searching up neurological disorders and mental illnesses, but . . . apparently, Jeremy couldn't spend a second of his life without either texting, calling, or hanging out with Michael. So in the past week, all he'd figured out was that Jeremy definitely didn't have rabies. (He may have gotten a bit distracted looking at an article about how rabies can make some animals act more docile instead of more aggressive, which might have led to a mini panic-attack because he'd pet a bunny in his backyard the other day, and he might have almost called 911 because he'd mistaken the panic-attack as the symptoms for rabies. Or maybe not. He wouldn't tell.)

Finally, the last thing that surprised him the most.

5\. Jeremy wanted to wear their backpacks again.

They'd both been reusing their old backpacks from sophomore year ever since way back when Jeremy first heard about the SQUIP. They'd done it to avoid being bullied, but now . . . Jeremy wanted them to wear their backpacks again. The ones that said "BOYF RIENDS" on them.

Yeah, Michael was pretty surprised to hear that.

"But Jer, won't people think--"

"That we're dating?" Jeremy raised a brow as he smirked. "Yep. They will. Everyone will know that I snatched the hottest, coolest, and most talented guy in our grade."

That had been enough to get Michael to agree (though, he may have been blushing and stuttering too much to give a coherent reply.)

It turned out to actually be a little amusing. Mostly embarrassing, but amusing. In the week they'd been dating, Michael had already had four people come up to him and ask if he was really dating the guy who shared the first half of his backpack. He'd said yes to them all, though a bit shyly since he'd never really expected people to come up to him and ask about such personal things. Then again, he supposed it had stopped being personal the moment they'd put on the backpacks again.

Still, with all those things that came with dating Jeremy, Michael couldn't shake the feeling something was off. Maybe it was the way Jeremy looked at him sometimes. Maybe it was how he was suddenly more confident, even though he'd been crying on Michael's shoulder earlier that month. Whatever it was, he was sure it was connected to his jerky behavior regarding Christine, Jake, and Rich, and he knew he had to get to the bottom of it.

So, on a Tuesday night before he was supposed to go to Jeremy's house, Michael opened his laptop and began searching.

**PTSD**

_A disorder in which a person has difficulty recovering after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event._

_Symptoms may include nightmares or unwanted memories of the trauma, avoidance of situations that bring back memories of the trauma, heightened reactions, anxiety, or depressed mood._

Okay, so that sounded like a good contender. However, that didn't explain the jerkiness. Now that Michael thought about it, though . . . Jeremy probably did have PTSD. Hell, Rich probably did, too. They'd been the ones under the influence of the SQUIP the longest, after all. Still . . . didn't explain the things Jeremy had done.

**Anxiety Disorder**

_A mental health disorder characterized by feelings of worry, anxiety, or fear that are strong enough to interfere with one's daily activities_

_Symptoms include stress that's out of proportion to the impact of the event, inability to set aside a worry, and restlessness._

Okay . . . Jeremy had that, too. But that wasn't the cause of his actions. It had to be something else . . . but what???

**Bipolar Disorder**

_A disorder associated with episodes of mood swings ranging from depressive lows to manic highs._

_Manic episodes may include symptoms such as high energy, reduced need for sleep, and loss of touch with reality. Depressive episodes may include symptoms such as low energy, low motivation, and loss of interest in daily activities. Mood episodes last days to months at a time and may also be associated with suicidal thoughts._

Maybe? Michael wasn't really sure. It didn't fit quite right . . . it _had to be something else_. But Michael still didn't know what that could be, and it wasn't like he could just look up "why is my best friend acting like an asshole to everyone but me" on Google. The best that would bring up was some random Yahoo Answers page. Which, let's be real here . . . wouldn't help at all.

The sudden buzz of his phone snapped Michael back into reality. It was a text from Jeremy.

_Speak of the devil._

> **Hey babe . . . you coming over soon?**

_Babe._ Jeremy had called him that once before, in seventh grade as a joke, but Michael had never thought he'd say it unironically.

Wait, no, stop. This is no time to be all starstruck. He was supposed to be researching.

But . . . he did tell Jeremy he'd go over.

With a sigh, he shut his laptop, giving into the will of his boyfriend for the time being. He'd research more later. It wasn't like he was finding anything useful, anyway.

> _Yeah, I'll be there in five_
> 
> **Awesome. Can't wait ;)**

Michael shoved his phone into his pocket before he headed upstairs, grabbing his keys off the hook before he went to drive to Jeremy's.

* * *

They played Apocolypse of the Damned for a while. Then . . . well, then Jeremy pinned Michael down to his bed and started kissing him like there was no tomorrow. He lightened up a bit after a few seconds, his regular passion coming back into the mix like it always did. But soon after that ... it got much more heated.

Jeremy pulled Michael closer to him, his lips trailing down towards his jaw. Michael let out a small breath, almost laughing, "what are you doing?"

Michael's half-smile was shaky when Jeremy pulled away for a moment, a smirk on his face as he answered, "just wait a second, you'll see . . . "

Woah, what did  _that_ mean?

It wasn't like they hadn't been doing some Grade A kissing before, but it seemed like Jeremy wanted to step things up a bit now . . . definitely unlike the Jeremy Michael knew.

Before he could think anything else, Jeremy's lips were on him again, pressing hard onto his jaw as he pushed him down onto the bed. ( _Woah, okay. So this was happening._ ) Michael found himself tugging at Jeremy's hair as Jeremy continued to kiss down his jaw before Michael felt a tug at his ear.

_Holy shit. This was HAPPENING._

Michael's blush was intense, he knew that much, but Jeremy's will to keep the mood going was much more powerful. (That didn't stop Michael from letting out a small giggle when Jeremy began sucking on his ear, because  _what was even happening anymore_ , but he . . . he liked it.) Jeremy wasn't stopping at just his ear, however. No, to Michael's surprise, he felt Jeremy kissing down his  _neck_. Which could only mean . . .

_Oh._

Oh dang.

That was surprisingly good.

He may have made a noise . . . which may have been a moan . . . but the embarrassment was buried under the heat of the moment. (Besides, he somehow couldn't find himself being too embarrassed when it was just him and Jeremy.) He pulled Jeremy closer as if that would make everything better, and . . . it kinda did. Having Jeremy pressed against him made him feel safe, and also super . . . well . . . it was hot, okay?

He scratched Jeremy's back and neck for the next thirty seconds (the longest thirty seconds of his life, by God) before Jeremy pulled away to pepper small, soft kisses on the newly bruised spot.

 _Wait, oh shit. That's . . . that's a freaking_ hickey.

Michael reached up to touch the still sensitive bruise, then looked up into Jeremy's eyes with a mix of astonishment and ardor. "Did you . . . "

He already knew the answer, even before Jeremy said, "yep," and kissed him again. "Now everyone will know that you're mine."

Oh  _shit_.

That was actually . . . like . . .  _really hot_.

Michael couldn't help but giggle, "as if the backpacks weren't doing that already."

Jeremy chuckled in response, still holding Michael close under him. "Well now nobody will doubt that they actually  _mean_ something."

_Well shit._

"True," Michael said before he leaned up a bit to kiss Jeremy's lips. "I love you," he said, almost as an afterthought.

"I love you, too."

With that, Jeremy pulled Michael in for another kiss, lifting him off the bed and holding him close.

This was safe. This was home . . . but something was still off.

* * *

So . . . Jenna Rolan was an interesting person to know. And by 'know', Michael meant 'talk to her a few times a week and hear about her latest gossip when Chloe was too bored to listen'.

The thing Michael admired about Jenna was that, even though Jeremy had done a lot of dumb shit in the past few weeks, and even though Michael was a loser with only Jeremy as a friend, she was always willing to talk to them. She didn't care what other people thought . . . or, well, she didn't let on if she did. But hanging around Jeremy after what he'd did, especially when one barely knew him, was pretty bold, in Michael's opinion.

However, the biggest downside to Jenna was the very thing she was known for: she was a huge gossip.

And like a huge gossip, she couldn't help but ask Michael about the mark on his neck the moment he and Jeremy walked into school.

"OMG, Michael!" she practically screamed, running up to him and forcing he and Jeremy to stop walking for the moment. "Is that a  _hickey?!"_ Her eyes moved from Michael to Jeremy and back to Michael as she asked the question.

Michael's face flushed, and he found himself stuttering, "I-I, I, uh, ye--I mean, kinda? I, um . . . "

What the hell was he supposed to say? _'Yes it is and by the_ _way, Jeremy is actually super hot and knows how to do these things and what the hell???'_ Or maybe, _'yes, but I don't quite know how I feel about it because something is off about Jeremy lately and hey can you please HELP ME?!'_

But Jeremy. Oh, God, Jeremy. Jeremy said to her, without hesitation: "Yes. I gave it to him yesterday. Feel free to put that on your gossip blog."

Michael could only stare at him in shock.  _What the hell???_

Jenna seemed shocked as well, but she soon smiled and pulled out her phone, probably writing  _exactly that_ on said gossip blog, before she went on her merry way down the hall.

_What the hell???_

Michael looked at Jeremy, wondering where  _that_ had come from, and also if he was going to provide any explanation.

But no. He just  _smiled_ and kissed Michael's lips before leaving him all alone in the hallway.

_What in the freaking hell._

Class wasn't any better. He was bombarded by questions and rumors were whispered all around him. He'd heard things ranging from him being gay (true) to them have a foursome with a donkey (DEFINITELY NOT TRUE!). So . . . yeah, he was pretty embarrassed and more than a little upset, though if that was at Jeremy, Jenna, or someone else, he didn't know.

This was just . . . what was even happening. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom so he could hide for the rest of his life and play  _Bakery Story_ on his phone (what? it was relaxing) until the end of the period. 

Eventually, though, he had to leave and get his stuff from the classroom, and not even Bob Marley could tune out the chatter of his classmates.

God, before today they probably hadn't even known his name. But now? Now he was the talk of the school.

What a weird day . . .

But all the weirdness brought on some very serious thoughts. Namely, thoughts of how far he was willing to go with Jeremy. Hickeys were . . . probably the extent of what he wanted right now, especially since Jeremy was acting so weird. He could deal with people talking about him . . . that was expected when one had a huge mark on their neck, even if it was pretty well hidden by his hoodie. But anything beyond that? He didn't want it. Not yet, at least. He loved Jeremy, he really, really did, but things were weird right now . . . and besides that, he wasn't the "bang your best friend in high school" type of guy.

So . . . he'd tell Jeremy that. Just so his boundaries were clear. (That was important in a relationship, he knew that much.) The next time he saw Jeremy, he'd tell him that.

"The next time" just so happened to be a half hour later, when he was heading to fourth period, and he saw Jeremy as he rounded the corner of the hall. He waved to Jeremy before removing one half of his headphones so he could hear Jeremy, wondering how he was going to bring this up in conversation. Even if he felt awkward and school was kind of Hell, it was always nice to see Jeremy . . . well, usually. But right now, it honestly was. He was Michael's only solace in this place, after all.

Jeremy, seeming to know exactly how to lift his spirits, kissed his cheek softly before  _caressing it_ , which transported Michael into a blissful abyss for a moment. No matter how weird Jeremy was being, it was moments like these that helped Michael to remember he wasn't completely lost. Sure, there were some things to work through, but this was still his Jeremy, through and through.

"So . . . " Michael's gaze stayed on the floor for a moment before he finally allowed himself to meet Jeremy's eyes, now a little awkward since he knew where this conversation was going to go. "How was your day?"

"Good," Jeremy smirked, "but it would have been better if you were in all my classes."

Oh, wow. Okay. So Jeremy was  _flirty_ today.

"Yeah, well . . . " Michael bit his lip, not quite knowing how to word his segway. "I, um, I heard some people talking about . . . " he trailed off, feeling awkward.

"Same," Jeremy replied, knowing what Michael meant. He shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable as well. "Are you embarrassed?"

Was  _Jeremy_ embarrassed?

"I mean . . . a little, yeah," Michael admitted, scratching his head. "N-not because it's from  _you_ , j-just because . . . well . . . I've never had this happen to me before, you know?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything," was Jeremy's almost uncaring answer. He pulled Michael's face closer to his by the chin, giving a smile that was almost . . . creepy.

"Y-yeah," Michael bit his lip, pulling away from Jeremy's gesture. The flirting had been nice before, but now . . . "Uh, about that . . . " he paused, somehow feeling like he would be letting Jeremy down by saying this. (Which was stupid . . . he knew that even if Jeremy kind of gave into the idea that guys had to stop being virgins by the time they were sixteen, he would never force Michael to do anything, and the Jeremy he knew respected his boundaries more than enough. Dating was just . . . it made things different, Michael supposed.) "I know we've only been dating for like, a week, but, well, you've already done this, so . . . " Michael's hand went to touch his bruise without him meaning to before he finally said, "can we talk about, like,  _things_?"

" _Things_?" Jeremy repeated, a hint of a frown forming. That . . . wasn't what Michael expected.

Still, Michael persisted. "Like . . .  _doing things_?" he blushed, though he wasn't sure why. This whole situation was just making him feel really uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn't have brought this up . . . well, no. He had to. It was important.

"Oh,  _things,_ " Jeremy smirked. Smirked! "Like, sexual things?"

Michael almost  _died_ right then and there. Since when had Jeremy ever been so . . . explicit about this stuff? Especially during this type of conversation? Where Michael was trying to be serious? "M-maybe? Yeah?" Michael bit his lip, "I, uh . . . " he could barely look at Jeremy, "I just . . . I want to take things slow, right? I-I love you, but I don't . . . " 

God, what was he saying? He sounded so stupid. But he had to say this. So why did it feel so . . . so . . .

"Michael," Jeremy said, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder and offering him an understanding smile. "I totally understand. That's completely fine."

"R-really?" Michael looked into Jeremy's eyes, and then he knew Jeremy's response was genuine. What had he been worried about? _Of course_ Jeremy would understand. He'd just been reading into things too much. "O-oh my god," he smiled shakily yet genuinely, "I was so worried, but I knew you'd understand . . . "

He pulled Jeremy in for a hug, headphones falling off completely as he peppered Jeremy's face with kisses. Jeremy chuckled, hugging him back.

What had he been worried about? This was fine. It was all fine . . . more than fine, actually. Everything felt perfect.

Sure, Jeremy had been acting weird. But . . . people did that sometimes. Michael was probably reading into everything way too much. It wasn't like the SQUIP had come back or anything. No, Jeremy just had some things to work through . . . and Michael knew he could help him do just that.

He wasn't just some rebound. This wasn't a way for Jeremy to cope with everything. This was a real, amazing relationship. And sure, it had its kinks sometimes, but overall, Michael loved it. All he had to do was help Jeremy get things back to normal and everything would be perfect.

Everything would be perfect.

 


	10. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The rating has gone up because this story is really dark and um . . . T just doesn't cut it.)  
> Michael and Jeremy are dating, and it's amazing! Well, there are still some things to work out, and Jeremy still doesn't remember the college they planned on going to, but . . . everything is actually pretty good for once.

Research on Jeremy's . . . whatever was going on with him . . . was slow-going.

It didn't provide much besides the occasional "hey wait Jeremy probably  _is_ depressed but that's not the main cause of this", and to be honest it was kind of hard to find information on something when one didn't even know what they were looking for.

So . . . Michael found himself giving up. He was trying as hard as he could to find things; he was asking people in  _World of Warcraft_ chats, he was searching things up on  _WebMD,_ he even checked out some Psychology books from the school's library . . . but to no avail. There were just no good explanations for what was going on with Jeremy besides that he had become a jerk and made some really bad choices for a few weeks.

But . . . that was so unlike Jeremy.

Then again, it was unlike Jeremy to forget the college they'd planned on going to together since Freshman year . . . and, as he thought more and more about their conversation the other day, it was pretty unlike him to say something so bold when Michael was trying to be serious (and was obviously uncomfortable.)

But maybe this whole dating thing was just confusing for Jeremy. Maybe he wasn't sure how to act . . . maybe he thought he had to be suave and cool so Michael would stay with him, or maybe because he thought that's how things were supposed to be. But Michael had never cared about how things were 'supposed to be' . . . so he supposed he'd have to help remind Jeremy that he didn't need to care, either.

There were no rules in this relationship. No pretending, no masks, no lies. It was just he and Jeremy, and their relationship might change a bit, but in the end, it should be what it had always been . . . the two of them supporting each other and loving each other in whatever ways they could.

So . . . maybe the research didn't bring anything up. That was fine. As long as Michael could help Jeremy get back to normal, everything was fine.

* * *

Michael was in a pretty good mood when he pulled into Jeremy's driveway. Sure, there was . . . stuff to work out, but for the most part, he was confident everything would work out and be back to normal soon.

"No offense, Jer," Michael began as Jeremy climbed into his car, "but you look like shit."

To be honest, Jeremy looked like he'd been run over by a bus. His eyes were dry and there were bags under them, and his hair was a mess. Besides that, there was Cheeto dust on his fingers and his clothes were wrinkled like they'd been on the floor for a month. (Which, knowing Jeremy, was entirely possible.)

"Did you fall asleep at your desk again?" he asked, raising a brow in concern.

"Yeah, sort of . . . " Jeremy replied with a small yawn, "I was trying to finish this essay for Mrs. Johnson."

"Ah, Mrs. Johnson, the worst English teacher to ever exist. I feel you, man," Michael nodded solemnly, then turned around so he could back out of the driveway. "You know, I once heard that she gave a student a D on a paper because they didn't cite a source correctly so she counted it as plagiarism," he clicked his tongue, "isn't that stupid?"

"Yeah, really stupid." Jeremy nodded in agreement. "I imagine you actually slept in a bed, then?" he joked, causing Michael to smile.

"Eh, I fell asleep playing Mario Kart. Effing Daisy AI keeps beating me on Rainbow Road," he muttered, putting the car into drive.

"Screw Daisy," Jeremy said, and Michael could practically  _feel_ the eye roll.

"Right though? I hate that little b--" Michael slammed the brakes quickly as he noticed the squirrel just standing in the middle of the road, not seeming to care if it was run over. It scurried away as he realized how dumb that had been to do, "shit. Shouldn't have done that. Sorry," he said, looking at Jeremy.

Jeremy just chuckled, "nah, you're fine."

Michael returned his gaze to the road and pressed his foot on the gas once again, a little tense now. He suddenly remembered Warren again, and he wondered if Jeremy would remember if he said . . . "So . . . we still thinking about Yale?"

"Course," Jeremy replied with a smile. "I wanna be with you in college."

Did Jeremy honestly not remember their plans? Besides that, did he honestly think either of them could get into  _Yale_?

Michael was at a loss for words . . . but something told him he should play along with this. Maybe then he could figure out what was going on in that brain of his.

"Same," Michael said, giving the most genuine smile he could.

"By the way," Jeremy began, changing subjects, "do you want to come over today? We haven't hung out--"

"For literally two days," Michael smirked, thoughts of Warren almost slipping from his mind. "But yeah, I'll come over."

Jeremy was beaming when he answered, "great."

So . . . he still didn't remember Warren. No matter how much Michael wanted to believe things were already normal again, he had to keep reminding himself that something was still off. So . . . he'd play along, and he'd keep playing along until he found out what was going on.

* * *

No matter how weird everything was, hanging out at Jeremy's felt the same as ever.

For the first time in a while, Michael found them just . . . hanging out. For the most part, they relaxed on Jeremy's bed and cuddled, just soaking up each other's presence and playing Mario Kart and totally  _destorying_ Daisy in Rainbow Road. It felt like old times . . . it was everything Michael wanted and more.

Besides that, they kissed a bit, but it wasn't like the heated make-out session they'd had the other day. No, this was soft, and meaningful, and safe. There were no signs of this new, weird Jeremy Michael was becoming so suspicious of. No, this was only the Jeremy Michael knew and loved.

The Jeremy that cared deeply about him and made him feel safe. The Jeremy that noticed his sentimental, maybe a bit sad mood and stopped the kisses for a moment to nuzzle his head into Michael's chest. The Jeremy that could tell Michael's thoughts of what they were like before had sparked a few . . . not so good thoughts of the things Jeremy had said to him in that bathroom, and of the scars it had left on Michael's wrists. The Jeremy that, because of those thoughts, knew exactly what to do and brought Michael's hand up to his cheek, resting his face in it before softly kissing each and every scar as gently as humanly possible. The Jeremy that was helping him to forget the past, and who he was so close to completely forgiving for everything, because even though he didn't like to think about it, he still hurt sometimes because of the past . . . but this reminded him that it wouldn't happen again.

This was everything Michael wanted them to be . . . this was what he wanted all the time. If he could just have these moments, he knew he still had Jeremy. If he could have these moments, then he knew that he could have more. And he could make things like this again. Exactly like this.

Michael eventually fell asleep when Jeremy went upstairs to finish some chores before his dad got home from work, for once feeling completely confident that he could make things better again. That he could fix everything that was wrong with Jeremy . . . that they'd be like they were today all the time once he did.

He'd figure out what was going on. And once he did, he had no doubts he'd be able to fix it. Because he still had his Jeremy. And as long as he had his Jeremy, everything would turn out to be wonderful.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this is the last bit of happiness we'll be seeing for a while. So, uh . . . things are going to get really dark.  
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out, because I honestly don't know if I can write it.


	11. Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Michael and Jeremy's one month anniversary! Michael is excited as hell, but unfortunately, something changes his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: DEFINITELY INCLUDES A TRIGGERING SUBJECT! DO NOT READ ON IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANYTHING REGARDING SEX OR RAPE. (nobody gets raped, don't worry, but this is definitely similar enough to possibly trigger some people) ALSO, PANIC ATTACK.
> 
> (Rape TW starts at ""Well . . . " Jeremy began, seeming to regain his composure and confidence, "first I was going to tell you how handsome you look."" Ends at the end of the line.)  
> (Anxiety attack TW starts at "Everything was wrong.", the first sentence after the line.)

Michael never thought he'd see the day when he was going to celebrate his one month anniversary. The fact that he was doing it now? And with Jeremy? That made it so much more amazing.

He and Jeremy had decided to have a little celebration at Jeremy's house, and Michael was beginning to think all the weirdness was behind them. Sure, there were still some things that didn't make a ton of sense, and of course, they had to find a way to fix the relationships Jeremy had mutilated in the past month or two, but for now, Michael felt almost at peace. He was really getting his Jeremy back, the _real_ Jeremy back, and they both deserved a day to forget their worries and have some gross, adorable, cuddly, coupley fun.

Of course, for them that really just meant some cuddles, sushi and slushies, and some good old  _Apocolypse of the Damned_ , but Michael didn't need anything special. And if Jeremy had some other plans (stealing from his dad's liquor cabinet, perhaps?) well, Michael was all for it.

The male hummed a soft tune (Bob Marley, of course . . . he was obsessed) as he turned his car off, the heated air dissipating and the soft radio silencing before he opened the door. He stepped out onto the driveway, making his way to the front door and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn't knock, instead grabbing the spare key from under the matt (did Mr. Heere know how robbable they were?) and opening the door. 

He saw nobody in the kitchen or living room, so he figured Jeremy must be in his room. Made sense since Jeremy was almost always in there. Michael made his way down the hall, taking his headphones off (they hadn't been playing music, he just liked the aesthetic they gave him) before he opened the door, a smile on his face as his other hand smoothed his hair out a bit. He waved absentmindedly before he fully took in the sight before him.

Jeremy was standing in the middle of his room, half-naked and shaking. His breathing was heavy as he froze, staring at Michael. But that wasn't even the main reason Michael was gaping, unable to move as he stared at his boyfriend. Because running along Jeremy's arms, neck, and torso were many thin scars that covered almost every part of his skin. They ran along him like wires, moving down under what little clothing he had left and thinning as they neared his head and hands.

For a moment, all Michael could do was stare. Jeremy stared right back, looking more scared and helpless than Michael had ever seen him, and that was counting the panic attack he'd had that night all those weeks ago.

It was he who broke the silence, dropping his bag and rushing over to the male with worry. 

"Jer, what happened?!" Michael asked, frantically examining Jeremy's face to gauge his reaction before looking down at his scarred body. How had this happened? How had Michael not noticed? How . . . _what the hell?_

"I-I . . . " Jeremy shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself and looking down at the floor as if this was shameful. As if he was in trouble for being caught like this. "You weren't supposed to see me like this."

Oh, oh, God. How long had this been going on? How had Jeremy not told anyone? What had even happened? Was this some sort of . . . very intricate, insane form of cutting or something?

Oh, God. This was awful. No, terrible. Inconceivable. Michael could barely believe it. His heart broke at the very sight.

But he had to be strong for Jeremy. He had to be his rock. He had to be there for him.

"Jer," Michael couldn't help but gasp, hesitantly reaching out to lift Jeremy's face back up so he could look at him. "I want to help you, okay?" he spoke as if he was addressing a scared child or a hurt deer. He should never have to address Jeremy like this. Jeremy didn't deserve this . . . whatever was happening. "You don't need to hide these things from me."

Jeremy just nodded, still shaky and frightened.

God, how had it come to this? What had happened?

No, that wasn't important right now. Right now, he had to calm Jeremy down.

"Listen," Michael gently caressed his face, "we're going to go sit on your bed and I'm going to wrap the blankets around you and we are going to calm you down, okay?"

"O-okay . . . " Jeremy nodded, allowing Michael to lead him to his bed.

Michael sat him down gently, grabbing his blankets and wrapping him up tightly like a burrito, the way a mother would for her newborn. Michael only hoped that felt safe for Jeremy.

After a moment, when Michael was sure Jeremy had calmed down and he couldn't stand to ignore the obvious anymore, he asked the question he knew Jeremy was dreading. "Where did those scars come from?"

Jeremy was silent for a moment. It didn't seem like he was going to answer, with his expression all torn between fear and what might have been confusion, and his body getting shaky again. But then, he looked up, straight into Michael's eyes, as if he was facing something.

"It was the SQUIP," he finally said, voice surprisingly strong. (Though, Michael could hear the way it barely cracked, the way it revealed just how close to tears he was.) "From when . . . from when I still had it."

"Jeremy . . . " Michael was hesitant to continue, his frown deepening as he looked at Jeremy with worry. Of course it was the SQUIP. Of freaking course. Of course it couldn't give Jeremy one break. Of course it had to ruin everything, every part of Jeremy's life that he loved. Of course it had to keep on effecting him, even long after it was gone. But . . . he could save his anger for later. Right now, it would just scare Jeremy. He needed to help Jeremy talk about this . . . get it out and into the open so Michael could figure out how to  _help._ "How . . . how did it . . . "

"It would shock me," Jeremy said almost immediately as he looked down. It was as if he was breaking a dam, and the words were no longer held back. As if he was finally able to speak after a year without words. "It would shock me through my nervous system whenever I did something wrong. I guess it took a while for the scars to form, and when they did, I tried to hide them with my clothes . . . "

Of course. The cold weather had brought on no suspicion to Jeremy's long sleeved cardigans and dark pants, or even the occasional scarf or hoodie. He'd been hiding it so well . . . too well, for Michael's tastes. He didn't want Jeremy to be good at hiding these types of things. Or . . . or maybe he wasn't, and Michael was just to wrapped up in his own mind to notice? God, this was all shit. Freaking shit.

"Jeremy," Michael's lips were parted ever so slightly as he scooted closer. "I am so sorry." A beat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He couldn't hide the pain in his voice as he asked that question. It was there for a multitude of reasons . . . he felt like he'd failed Jeremy. He was unsure if Jeremy trusted him. But above all, he knew what this was like. He knew how hard it was to talk to someone, especially the people you cared about the most, and especially when things are so perfect that you're afraid you'll ruin them if you speak up. He knew exactly how that felt . . . and he never wanted Jeremy to feel that way. Especially not about this.

How long had Jeremy been dealing with this alone?

Would he have ever told someone?

"I . . . " Jeremy began, voice ready to break at any moment. "I thought I could deal with it on my own. I didn't want to be a burden to you." Jeremy's breath hitched and Michael could tell he was moments away from tears. He had to salvage this, and quickly.

"Jeremy," Michael's response was quick, his hand moving to caress Jeremy's cheek once again. "You could never be a burden to me." He paused, praying that he was saying the right things. "I want you to tell me if something else like this happens, okay?" His tone was calm, his words slow. "I want you to be honest with me."

"Okay . . . " Jeremy gave a slow nod, seeming to choke on the word as tears formed in his eyes.

Michael pulled him closer, rubbing his head softly. "Is this why you've been acting weird?"

It somehow made sense that it was. Jeremy was dealing with so much alone, more than Michael knew . . . that kind of stress could bring out the worst in someone.

"Yes . . . " Jeremy's voice was soft and he nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you . . . "

Oh, that made Michael's heart break even more. God, he hated this. He hated this so much. Jeremy didn't deserve this.

"It's okay, Jer," Michael promised, kissing the brunette's hair. "I'll admit that I thought something was off, and I was doubting you sometimes . . . " It was hard to admit, but he had to be honest with Jeremy. And now that he knew what had been going on, he felt insanely guilty. "But I trust you, Jer, always have, and I'm always here if you need me."

"Y-you do?" Jeremy leaned back to look at Michael, eyes wide.

God, Jeremy was too good for this world. Too sweet, too soft . . . too broken. Michael wished he'd never been through any harm in his life. Maybe then he'd believe Michael without a doubt.

"Yes, Jeremy," Michael said, tone soft, and he kissed his nose. "I trust you."

Jeremy's lips curled into an almost desperate smile, looking so happy he might break. "I love you," he said, voice crackly and soft as if this was the first time he'd ever said those words.

"I love you, too," Michael said with a soft smile. His thumb moved to wipe the tears from Jeremy's left cheek.

Everything was okay now. Well, no. Not everything. Far from everything. But Jeremy was okay now. Emotionally, he was stable. They had a lot of shit to work through, that was for sure, and these scars weren't just going to heal themselves and disappear, but . . . Michael knew Jeremy needed him to be normal for now. At least for today, on their anniversary. Knowing Jeremy, he was probably going to be upset that he'd 'ruined' the occasion.

"I'm sorry I made our anniversary so depressing," Jeremy then said, as if on cue, and he looked down.

So Michael was right. Which meant there was only one thing he could do: he had to make this the best anniversary ever for Jeremy.

"Hey, it's okay," Michael assured him with another soft smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"But . . . " Jeremy looked back at him, and Michael knew he was still upset. "I was going to be all romantic and stuff . . . "

Oh, Jeremy. He was just so . . . he was far too sweet. Even now, he was worried about their date not being romantic enough when Michael had just discovered scars all over his body.

But that was classic Jeremy. So Michael knew he had to assure Jeremy this was already perfect.

"Yeah?" Michael offered him a smile, "well, consider me romanced."

"But it isn't the same . . . " Jeremy sighed. He was really clinging onto this, huh? Well . . .

"Well, you can still do it, if you want," Michael said, chuckling lightly to keep the mood light. If this was what Jeremy wanted, then this is what they would do.

"Okay." Jeremy looked down for a moment, expression determined. "Yeah, okay," he repeated, looking up at Michael with a smile.

"I'm ready," Michael grinned, hands in his lap.

"Well . . . " Jeremy began, seeming to regain his composure and confidence, "first I was going to tell you how handsome you look."

Michael chuckled again, "but you didn't know what I looked like today. For all you knew I could have come in here looking like Death himself." Okay, so their banter was returning. That was a good sign. He was lifting Jeremy's mood again.

"Not true," Jeremy smirked -- that was a  _great_ sign. "You can never look bad. You're the sexiest person in the universe."

Woah, what?

'Sexiest'? Jeremy had never used  _that_ word to describe  _him_ before . . . This was very new. Had Michael missed something while he was trying to cheer his boyfriend up?

Michael could only blush, looking down at his hands as he failed to hide his smile. "N-no I'm not . . . "

"Yes," Jeremy said before grabbing Michael's chin and lifting his head back up to meet his gaze, "you are."

Well . . . damn.

All of this was . . . really weird.

Hadn't Jeremy just been crying? Was this a way to cope? Michael didn't know.

"W-well . . . " Michael trailed off, biting his lip. He was at a complete loss for words. What was even happening anymore? He'd hoped to cheer Jeremy up, but he hadn't expected the mood to change so quickly . . . he supposed Jeremy might be trying to forget about the scars, which wasn't a good idea in the long term but it was something Michael understood. But being this flirty when it had barely been a minute since he'd been about to cry? Well . . . this was moving pretty fast.

At least Jeremy was cheered up, though. That was the important part. It always was.

"The sexiest," Jeremy repeated, "the smartest, the kindest, the most loyal, the best at kissing . . . the list goes on forever. You're incredible."

Though still confused, Michael was not immune to Jeremy's sudden charm.

"Y-you too," he lamely replied, unable to form a coherent sentence at the will of Jeremy's flirting. He shook his head, "n-no, I meant, you're amazing, too. And apparently super romantic."

"And good at making you blush," Jeremy added with a chuckle.

Okay, everything else aside, this was the suavest and flirtiest Michael had ever seen Jeremy. (He was still concerned because, um, scars? glowing? SQUIP? . . . but he guessed if Jeremy wanted to just have a normal anniversary for once, he deserved to have that. So Michael would comply.)

"Sh-shut up," Michael breathed, obviously  _not_ wanting Jeremy to shut up. He . . . was enjoying this. He didn't know if that was wrong because of what had happened, or if it was right because that was what Jeremy wanted. But . . . for once, he let himself stop thinking so much.

"I bet I could make you do a lot of other things, too," Jeremy smirked boldly, leaning closer.

"W-I . . . " Michael looked into Jeremy's eyes, trying to process what he'd just heard. Did Jeremy just . . . was he . . . what in the  _hell_.

Okay, backtrack, he was thinking again.

He'd made himself clear before. He didn't want . . .  _that_ . . . at least, not yet. So . . . so if Jeremy was flirting like this, it must just be as a _joke_ , right?

That . . . must be it. Yeah, Jeremy was joking.

But when Jeremy said, "let me kiss you,", it didn't sound like a joke. When Jeremy caressed Michael's cheek, it didn't feel as romantic as it usually did. His voice was low as he continued, "let me kiss you everywhere, and let me make you moan."

That definitely didn't sound like a joke.

"I-I," Michael stuttered, unable to process what was happening right now. His breath was quicker now, "Jer, I-I don't--"

Jeremy cut him off with a kiss, causing Michael to make a small noise of surprise. 

What was happening? Was Jeremy really . . . was . . .

Jeremy pulled him closer, the blanket Michael had so carefully wrapped around him falling off his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around Michael, who was too shocked to kiss back.

Was . . . was he . . . 

No. 

 _No._  

Jeremy wouldn't do that. Jeremy . . . Michael trusted him. He was just saying those things for show, and to get in the mood or whatever. But he wouldn't actually try and do something when Michael had told him not to. Definitely not without asking. So . . . he must just have wanted a bit of heated kissing. That . . . that was fine. Just heated kissing. They'd done that before.

Michael let himself kiss back, something telling him Jeremy would continue on even if he didn't. He tried to ignore the odd feeling in his chest when his shaky hands went up to hold Jeremy's face, and then wrapped around his neck, pulling gently at the other's hair.

And then, they were moving, and before he knew it, Jeremy was straddling him. His kisses were deeper now, more passionate than Michael had ever felt them be. This was . . . this was _much_ more heated than normal.

Jeremy was kissing down his jaw now, and Michael couldn't stop himself from making a small noise. He wasn't sure how he felt right now . . . something was dreading this inside him. Something else told him to go along with it. He listened to the latter.

Now, Jeremy was kissing down his neck. He stopped in that spot where the almost healed bruise was, and he sucked, bruising the sensitive skin all over again. Michael couldn't help but let out a moan. This was . . . he had no idea what this was. He didn't know if he loved it or hated it. He didn't know what was going on anymore . . . that dread was growing larger, louder, like a pounding drum inside his head, warning him to steer clear. Telling him to get out.

Jeremy was unzipping his hoodie. Oh god, his hoodie. His safety net. His armor. It was gone. He felt completely vulnerable . . . he didn't know if he wanted that. But the heat and the things he was feeling drove him to ignore the warning bells, and he only pulled Jeremy closer once his shirt was removed.

This was just . . . it was just a little step forward from what they'd done before. That was all it was. Just one step. This was as far as they'd let it go, Michael was sure of it. He was . . . he was sure of it.

He wanted this. He . . . he wanted to want this, at least. He wanted to be close to Jeremy, to kiss him like this, to . . . to . . .

Jeremy pushed him down onto the bed, taking a moment to breathe. To look at him.

No . . . this was going too far. He wanted to want this, but he didn't. He . . . not now. He did, kind of, in some ways, but not now. It wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. He didn't want this to go any further, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted what was currently happening.

He caught his breath and slowly looked at Jeremy. Jeremy, who . . . who almost looked scary. Like he was winning a trophy, achieving a long sought-after goal . . . claiming what was his.

Michael didn't like this.

"J-Jer," Michael was shaky, "I-I think we should stop before we--"

"Don't be scared, Michael," Jeremy interrupted. No, this wasn't like Jeremy. "We both know this is what we want." No, it wasn't. "Don't you trust me?"

Michael wasn't sure he did.

"J-Jeremy, I . . . "

He what? He didn't know what to say. He just wanted this to stop. But the words wouldn't form in his mouth.

Why wasn't Jeremy letting him stop?

"Let me do this," Jeremy said, as if he thought he could still convince Michael to go further. But he wasn't asking. No, the grip on Michael's shoulders told him that much. He wasn't asking at all. This wasn't like Jeremy. This wasn't _his_ Jeremy.

No, this wasn't his Jeremy at all. Because this Jeremy . . . holy shit, he was  _glowing_.

"Jeremy . . . " Michael breathed, "you . . . your scars are  _blue._ " Why were they blue? Why in the ever-loving hell were they _blue_?

No . . . it was . . . it was the SQUIP. It had to be. The SQUIP was doing this.

 _The SQUIP was doing this_.

"You . . . we should stop," Michael tried again, pleading.

"No," Jeremy said, tone sharp and final. This wasn't his Jeremy. This _had_ to be the SQUIP. Jeremy would never do this to him. "You know you want this."

He didn't. He really, really didn't.

"Jer, please," Micheal pleaded, voice cracking.

Jeremy's grip on him lessened a bit, but he wasn't letting go. Michael was shaking now. He was having trouble breathing. Tears prickled his eyes. He had to get out. He had to leave . . . this had to stop. He had to get out.

Jeremy looked to be in pain. It only scared Michael more. It was the SQUIP . . . it had to be the SQUIP. Jeremy wouldn't . . . but he was here, doing it . . . but he wouldn't . . .

He still couldn't move. He was trapped. There was nothing he could do. Jeremy was too strong. He--

The grip was gone as Jeremy suddenly leaped off of him, yelling at him to leave. "Get out. Get out  _now_!" His tone was full of so many emotions . . . Michael couldn't tell which one was most important. He only knew it scared him even more."Before it's too late  _get out_!"

Even though he could tell this was his Jeremy shining through, he didn't seem in complete control.

That might have been what scared him the most.

Michael, shaking and unable to see clearly due to the tears forming in his eyes, finally realized he could move. He nodded quickly, confused and distressed as he ran out of the room, and then down the hall, and then out the door.

And he kept running, past his car, and down the street until he couldn't run anymore.

* * *

Everything was wrong.

There was no other way to describe it. Michael just knew that nothing was right, because if something was right then he wouldn't be feeling this weak, and his body wouldn't be shaking so violently. He wouldn't have so many thoughts in his head, so many voices, conflicting and shouting and  _stop stop STOP!_

He was pulling at his hair. It was getting hard to breathe. His breath hitched every time he sobbed, the tears having ruined his vision even with his glasses long ago. He was completely vulnerable, and he was lost. So, so lost. He had no idea where he was. Where Jeremy was. He didn't want to be anywhere near Jeremy, honestly ...

Some part of him, some deep seeded, rational part of him, was telling him over and over, "that wasn't Jeremy." He repeated it in his mind like a mantra, and it was the only thing keeping him sane ... the only thing keeping him from toppling over the edge.

He was alone, and he was vulnerable, with no headphones to keep him relaxed, no sweatshirt to keep him safe. No, the sweatshirt had been left with Jeremy.

He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to cry, either. But he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. The tears just kept coming with every new realization, every new thought and memory that was imprinted into his skin.

This was something he would never forget.

He was scared. Scared as hell. He was shaking, curled up in a little ball next to some stranger's trash can on the side of the road as if it could protect him, and he was crying, frightened by the experience and unsure who to be afraid of.

But the SQUIP, that terrible pill-sized supercomputer . . . it was the cause of this. Michael knew that much. Jeremy would never have . . .

Stop. He didn't want to think about that again. Not now ... not ever.

He didn't know why the SQUIP had gone out to target him specifically like this. But he did know one thing: that damned computer was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was . . . hard to write from Michael's perspective. Hard in many ways, but mostly hard because this subject is something I wished I'd never included in the original story.
> 
> But . . . it's there. So here we are.
> 
> Full disclosure, I am so sorry I ever did this to Michael and Jeremy. This is, hands down, the most terrible thing I've ever written. I cannot explain in the notes of this story the reasons why it happened, or why I didn't make it less terrible, or even why I'm not rewriting the whole thing now. Just know that I regret it.


End file.
